THE HITWOMAN AND THE EVIL EX

A COMICAL CRIME CAPER

CONFESSIONS OF A SLIGHTLY NEUROTIC HITWOMAN

BOOK 47

JB LYNN

Copyright  © Jennifer Baum THE HITWOMAN AND THE EVIL EX

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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, establishments, or organizations, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously to give a sense of authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The Hitwoman and the Evil Ex is intended for 18+ older and for mature audiences only.

© 2024 Jennifer Baum

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Proofreader: Proof Before You Publish

Formatting: Leiha Mann

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PROLOGUE

You just know it's going to be a bad day when you're loading a lizard into a slingshot.

"What about his sensitive skin?" Piss, my one-eyed cat, murmured worriedly.

"It's the only way," God, the aforementioned lizard, told her. "I'll be fine."

Our feline friend looked at me with her good eye and I could see doubt shining in it. I shrugged. I was in agreement with the lizard that this was our one shot. Literally.

“Thank you," I whispered to him.

“Let it never be said that I’m not heroic,” he declared. “In fact, I⁠—"

Without warning, I let him fly.

1

"Randy red or passionate pink?" Aunt Loretta said. "Which one do you like?" She dangled two lacy bras in front of my face. Neither appeared like they could pull off the job requirements of a training bra, let alone hold her abundant bosom.

I slumped lower in the kitchen chair where I sat. "I don't like either." To be fair, about the only thing I did like at this hour of the morning was coffee, but that wasn’t ready yet. I’d stumbled into the kitchen with cat and dog, fed them both, let them outside, and started the coffee. Now, I was waiting impatiently for the brew cycle to finish. I was not in the mood to be interrogated about lacy underthings.

"Woohoo!" my aunt cried with the kind of enthusiasm that I knew meant I was in trouble. "Does that mean that you prefer naughty night black or virginal white?"

Griswald, her brother-in-law, a retired U.S. Marshal, made a choking noise while he stood staring into the refrigerator. He’d shuffled in, grunted “Morning” and started foraging for food. Loretta had been on his heels, and I expected he’d been trying to escape her idiotic opinion questions before coffee, too.

"I am not going to be part of this," I told Loretta forcefully.

Loretta stuck out her lip like a pouting two-year-old. “But⁠—"

"Don't force the girl," Griswald said. "Besides, I need her help."

"I don't have time to help you, either," I told him testily. I probably should have been grateful that he was throwing me a lifeline to escape the deadly pull of my aunt, but I hadn’t yet had any caffeine, and I was in the mood to help absolutely no one.

The edge in my voice was enough to make Griswald pull his head out of the refrigerator to give me an inquisitive look. "What's wrong?"

I shook my head and glared at the coffeemaker, which was still dripping. "I think we should get one of those machines that works off a timer," I said. “That way, it would always be ready when we get up.”

"Ooh," Loretta said, leaning in with interest. "Like a ‘personal massager’ with a timer?"

That had Griswald sticking his head back in the refrigerator while groaning under his breath.

"I was talking about coffee," I told my lascivious aunt dryly.

Aunt Loretta frowned, a move that made her fake eyelashes close ranks so that they looked like wooly caterpillars. "You have no sense of humor, Maggie. I blame it on the fact that you’re stressed."

"I'm fine," I told her.

"A lack of a sex life will do that to a person," she continued as though I hadn't spoken. "What you need is⁠—"

"To be left alone by you," her father, Herschel, declared, striding into the kitchen.

I flashed my grandfather a look of gratitude.

"I was going to say that what she needs is sex," Loretta declared, undaunted. "You're the only adult in the household who is not getting any," she felt the need to point out.

“Marlene isn’t, either,” I protested like the ten-year-old version of myself taletelling on my sisters. I knew it was the kind of ploy that would knock me out of contention for Sibling of the Year, and it wasn’t a choice I was proud of, but desperate times call for desperate distractions.

"I wouldn’t be so sure of that," Loretta said with a knowing look. "She's been asking everyone to babysit the girls more often. I doubt the fabric store is open late on Saturday nights.”

I had to admit she was right about that, but I wouldn’t give my aunt the satisfaction of doing it out loud.

"I think she has a new man in her life,” Loretta concluded.

I blinked, wondering if it was true. And if so, why my sister hadn’t mentioned it to me.

"That means that you're the only one that's not," Loretta restated.

"I'm not," Herschel interjected. "And I miss it."

"Daddy!" Loretta whined. Shaking her head, she covered her ears. "You can't talk about that kind of thing in front of your own daughter.”

I smirked, amused that suddenly she was a prude.

I'm pretty sure I heard Griswald chuckling in the refrigerator. I fought the urge to point out that if Aunt Susan caught him standing there with the door propped open for as long as he had, she'd start ranting about the electric bill.

"You have a case?" I asked him, making another desperate attempt to divert the conversation away from my lack of sexual activity.

He raised his gaze over the door of the fridge and met mine. "It's a trophy wife cheating case. Nothing exciting, but nothing dangerous about it, either."

"How do you know she's cheating?" Herschel asked curiously.

"We don't, for sure," Griswald explained. "That's why her husband has hired me. To get the necessary evidence."

"And nullify her prenup, as a result?" I guessed.

Griswald nodded.

"How much younger is the trophy wife?" Loretta asked inquisitively.

"I don't know," Griswald said with a shrug. "Twenty years? Twenty-five?"

Loretta nodded knowingly. "You can't blame the woman for needing some good old-fashioned sex."

Thankfully, the brewer of beans gurgled and belched, signaling it was done.

"Coffee is ready," I said with relief.

"I'll have some," Herschel said.

I quickly jumped out of my seat and poured cups for everyone. It was good to have something to do, plus, it interrupted Loretta's sex talk… At least for a minute.

"Larry?" Loretta began.

I saw Griswald stiffen. He finally closed the door, having stopped rummaging in the fridge, and was standing with his back to it, cradling the mug of steaming brew I'd just handed him.

"What do you know about harassment?" Loretta asked.

"What kind of harassment?" Griswald asked carefully.

I knew what he was thinking. Had Aunt Loretta propositioned somebody who'd threatened to press charges against her for sexual harassment? I wouldn’t put it past her. My aunt doesn’t exactly have a filter and is a bit obsessed with fornication.

"It's these nosy neighbors we’re dealing with at The Corset," Loretta explained. "Uptight Donna and Nosy Nestor," she said with disgust. “They can’t just mind their own business, and they’re trying to ruin mine.”

Griswald relaxed a little. "You think they're harassing you?"

"I know they are," Loretta said. "She hands out flyers in front of the store declaring that it’s a den of iniquity.”

"At least she’s literate," God, the lizard in my bra, noted.

I chuckled.

Thinking I was laughing at her, Loretta gave me a hurt look before she continued. "It’s a real problem, Maggie. It’s nothing to laugh about. They’re chasing away our customers in droves.”

“Sorry,” I murmured.

“Have you tried—” Griswald began to suggest.

Pressing the back of her hand to her forehead, Loretta wailed dramatically, “They say they're not going to stop until we've vacated the storefront."

"Nobody's leaving anywhere," my friend Armani said as she limped in. "The spirits have told me so.”

"Finally! Some good news!" Loretta said, clapping with glee.

"Spirits," Herschel muttered under his breath. Rolling his eyes, he clutched his coffee mug to his chest like it was a magical amulet and walked out the kitchen door, probably retreating to his bedroom, leaving us to our spirited conversation.

Considering that, like me, he can talk to animals, I didn’t understand his total disbelief that Armani has unique communication skills, too.

"It's great news," Armani agreed. "They told me in a dream." She turned and looked at me expectantly.

"Awesome," I added flatly. I believed she had some kind of conduit to a world I didn’t understand. I just didn’t have much faith in her ability to translate the messages she received.

"You're a grouch, Chica," she noted, tossing her hair over her shoulder. My friend may have a messed-up arm and leg due to an unfortunate Zamboni accident, but she has an amazing head of hair.

I self-consciously smoothed my own.

"Maggie just got her coffee," Griswald interjected in an effort to defend me.

To prove his point, I lifted my cup to my lips and sipped, glowering grouchily at Armani over the rim.

"Don't get me wrong," my friend said easily, "bad moods seem to run in your family, at least the sexless members thereof."

I shook my head and stood to leave.

"Herschel's the same way," Armani said. "But I have a plan for him."

I squinted at her suspiciously. While my friend’s schemes were always hatched with the best of intentions, their results were often less than optimal. "What kind of plan?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that Griswald was hanging on her every word, as equally dubious as me.

"Sly’s going to set up Herschel on a dating app." Armani beamed, like that was the best news that anyone had heard in the last couple of centuries.

"What do you mean, set him up?" I asked worriedly. Sly was, at best, a computer whiz, at worst, a law-breaking hacker.

"We’re going to set up his dating profile and then Sly is going to make sure that he gets the most eyes possible on it. Herschel will be fighting off the desperate dames!"

“Desperate dames?” I asked.

“You know, women like you who can’t get a date,” she explained.

Griswald audibly gulped.

“I’m not trying to get a date,” I reminded her.

“You should be,” she replied. “You can’t just mourn forever, sitting in a corner and shriveling up like the last prune that nobody wants.”

"He's hacking a dating site?" Griswald interjected.

I wasn’t sure if he was trying to change the subject to save me or because he was hung up on the stated intention.

"He's going to access it," Armani told him. "It won’t do any harm."

"No," I muttered angrily. "He's just going to mess with the algorithm so that Herschel shows up as a potential match for everybody."

Armani nodded excitedly. "Isn't it great?"

"It's illegal," Griswald said.

"Don't start with that stuff, Mister Stick in the Mud," Loretta told him sternly. “I think it’s romantic.”

"That stuff," he muttered, rolling his eyes. Then, holding his coffee cup in the same exact position as Herschel had, he shuffled out of the room, not wanting to be part of any discussions about illegal activity.

"Well, I think it's great," Armani said defensively.

Shaking my head, I paused to refill my coffee before I followed my grandfather out the kitchen door.

"They seem more wound up than usual," God noted. The lizard in my bra scrambled up onto my shoulder as he spoke.

"Maybe a little," I acknowledged. "Maybe the protesters have them on edge."

"Hi, Maggie!" a small voice called. I looked around, searching for Twitch, the little brown rabbit, and finally spotted him hopping toward me.

"Hello, yourself," I said, greeting him with a smile. He was cute and cuddly and quiet. He never talked back. In some ways, he was my favorite member of the family.

That's why the horrific screeching and looming shadow that rushed toward us, specifically at the bunny, was so terrifying.

2

"Kill! Kill!" a voice screamed.

"Maggie!" Twitch squealed in terror. Frozen with fear, he made no move to avoid the attack.

I dove toward him, intent on saving the small rabbit from the impending threat.

Hot coffee splashed everywhere. God screamed. I flopped, as ungainly as a beached whale, toward the bunny.

“Kill! Kill!” another voice screamed.

“Help!” Twitch whimpered.

"Coming, we're!" DeeDee barked as she raced toward us from the barn.

"Stay low, Twitch!" Piss meowed. She, too, was running as fast as she could to reach the rabbit’s side.

I realized, as the shadows grew darker and closer, that I wouldn't reach the rabbit in time. "Stop!" I yelled, hoping to scare the attackers off. “Get away!”

"Back off bozos!" a guttural voice squawked as a black figure zipped through the air.

I felt a surge of relief as I realized that Mike, the crow, in his full tough-guy persona, had come to the rescue.

"This ain't your territory," he told the dangerous intruders as I scooped up Twitch off the ground and cradled him in my arms. “And you don’t want to find out why we’re called a murder of crows.”

"But we’re starving," a semi-familiar voice complained.

I searched for the source of the plaintive whining and spotted a pair of falcons perched on the roof of the barn.

"Pam? Dora? Is that you?" I called out to the birds of prey.

"It's us," they confirmed in unison.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"Trying to eat me," Twitch said, his adorable whiskers trembling with fear. He tried to burrow into my shoulder.

"Nobody is going to eat you," I soothed. I turned my attention back to the birds. "Seriously, what are you doing here?"

"We followed you here," Pam revealed.

"Impressive," God red from my shoulder, "especially considering you didn't come here straight from Knight Fights."

My stomach twisted. I did not want to think about that particular interlude, so I hurriedly asked, "Why didn't you tell me you were here?"

"Because Pam wasn’t nice to you," Dora revealed. She pecked at her companion to drive home her point.

The other bird stretched her wings to maintain her balance.

"Who are these two troublemakers?" Mike asked, puffing out his black feathered chest.

"I met them at Knight Fights," I explained. "It was a job."

"The one where we all almost perished in the fire," God elaborated.

"The one with the conga-dancing horses," Piss purred nostalgically. “That was something to see.”

"That was the one that afterward…" the lizard began.

"We all know where we met," I told them firmly, trying to bring an end to that arm of the conversation. I squinted up at the falcons. "I’ll get you something to eat, but I don't think you should plan on staying here."

“Yeah, beat it, punks!” Mike cawed.

“This is actually an amazing chance for ornithology research,” God whispered in my ear. “Crows are not birds of prey, yet here’s Mike holding not one, but two, deadly hunters at bay.”

“Thanks for the mini wildlife lesson,” I muttered through clenched teeth.

"You can't send us back," Dora said.

"She can't catch us, even if she wanted to send us back," Pam reminded everyone.

“She could shoot you,” Mike suggested. “She’s a good shot.”

Twitch trembled harder in my arms. The falcons flapped their wings nervously.

“I’m not going to shoot anyone,” I announced.

“She only shoots people,” God assured them.

“Only bad people,” I corrected.

“So, you’re stuck with us,” Pam screeched victoriously.

"You do not scare my friend Twitch, here." I patted the bunny's head for emphasis. "You're not going to try to eat him. You're not going to threaten to kill him."

"Okay," Dora replied easily.

"I don't like it," Mike squawked. "They’re intruders and I don’t trust their intentions.”

"They’re not so bad once you get to know them," I told him. "They're just hungry."

"And probably under-sexed," God offered from my shoulder.

"What does that have to do with anything?" I sighed with exasperation.

"Do you think you're a little bit sensitive about the subject?" the lizard teased.

"I just don’t understand why everybody's sex life is anybody else's business," I complained.

"I think it's because you're sensitive about what happened with Nat," God declared. "You really need to fix things with him."

"There's nothing to fix," I told him coldly.

"Obviously there is because you’re⁠—"

"End of discussion," I cut him off. "Unless you want to spend the rest of the day in your terrarium, I'm telling you to drop it."

"She must be serious," Piss purred with amusement, “if she’s threatening to ground you."

“In God is trouble,” DeeDee panted in agreement.

"I’ll see if I can find Pam and Dora some food," I announced to no one in particular. Spinning around on my heel, I came face-to-face with Nat Hunting smiling down at me. I took one look at him, pivoted, and ran.

Sure, it wasn't the most mature reaction, but I wasn't prepared yet to have a conversation with him.

So, I ran… Right into the arms of another man who’d been waiting for me.

3

I was in such a rush to get away from Nat, that I almost bowled over Lawrence Griswald as I ran around the corner. We clutched at each other, caught in a desperate dance to stay upright.

Once we’d regained our balance, he asked, "Can you get ready to go with me to meet Redding?"

I hesitated as he watched me expectantly. Glancing over my shoulder to make sure that Nat wasn't on my tail, I nodded. "Give me five minutes."

"Great."

“So much for feeding the falcons,” God muttered. “I’m glad I’m not the only one you fail to provide sustenance for.”

I dashed toward the front door of the house, not wanting to risk returning to the kitchen. I rushed to my room and quickly changed into an outfit of all black, deciding it would probably be the most professional combination I could put together.

"You didn’t even say good morning to him," God pointed out as I pulled a fresh shirt over my head.

"I don't want to talk to him."

"You're acting like a child," the lizard pointed out.

"Maybe," I agreed. “But I'm not ready yet."

"Ready for what?"

"I don't want to talk about it," I said defensively. "Either you drop it, or I'll leave you here."

"Armani wasn't wrong when she said you were grouchy," the lizard muttered, but he dropped the subject of Nat Hunting. “It was pretty impressive how Mike saved Twitch like that. He’s a tough old bird.”

“It was.” I ran a brush through my hair, slipped on some lip gloss, and flashed a grimace at my reflection. I hoped the expression would pass for a smile in front of others and not remind them of a deranged murderer.

As I emerged from my room, Aunt Susan tried to flag me down. "Margaret."

"Can't right now," I told her. "I’ve got to get to work with Griswald."

Without slowing my pace, I hurried past her and out the front door. I was relieved to see that her husband was sitting in his car, with the engine running. I practically threw myself into the seat beside him.

He glanced over at me, looking concerned. "Everything okay?"

I nodded and fumbled to put on my seat belt. "So why have you taken a cheating spouse case?" I asked curiously. The man behind the steering wheel had had an illustrious career as a U.S. Marshal. Tracking cheating spouses, no matter what the income level, seemed beneath him.

"It's a favor for a friend," he admitted.

"For this Redding guy?" I asked curiously.

He shook his head. "I've never met the man."

It was clear that he wasn't going to elaborate any more on who he owed the favor to, so I lapsed into silence. That was not a great idea, because I started thinking about Nat. I couldn't believe that I'd made such an error with him. I shook my head, full of self-recrimination.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Griswald asked with concern.

"I'm fine," I lied automatically.

"Any idea where Templeton was this morning?" Griswald asked after a moment.

I shrugged. "No idea."

"He seems to be missing out on a number of breakfasts lately."

"I've noticed," I admitted. "But he has no obligation to cook for us every morning.”

“Agreed. But the change in behavior seems extreme.”

I nodded.

"Maybe he and Loretta are on the outs," Griswald suggested.

"I wouldn't blame him if they were," I said with a heavy sigh. I love my aunt, but she's a handful. There's a reason why she's gone through so many husbands and even more lovers over the course of her life.”

"He's grown on me," Griswald admitted as he glanced at the GPS display on the dashboard of the car.

"Me too," I confessed quickly. There had been a time when I thought Templeton was just another scheming lowlife who'd hooked up with Loretta, but over and over again he had proven himself to be one of the more stable members of my dysfunctional family.

"If he was in trouble he wouldn't come to me," Griswald said carefully.

"But he might open up to me," I said, making clear that I was following his thinking. "I'll have a talk with him."

He nodded his approval. "I don't think the family really appreciates everything you contribute, Maggie."

I glanced at him, surprised. "I don't do anything⁠—"

He held up a hand to silence me.

"Really," I argued. "I mean, they saw me almost get killed at Knight Fights, that wasn't good for anyone." I’d been surprised that Aunt Susan hadn’t lectured me about being a bad influence on the girls."

"You helped save an entire amphitheater full of innocent people," Griswald corrected. "What better example could you set?"

We again lapsed into silence. I have mixed feelings about Lawrence Griswald. I think he's a good man. I think he's the right fit for my Aunt Susan and she definitely deserves to be happy. But I’m also painfully cognizant of the fact that he is a lifelong law enforcement officer. As such, he was always going to be a threat to me. If he ever figured out the work that I did for the mob boss Delveccio, our family would be torn apart. And I’d end up in prison. Maybe even death row.

"We’re here," he announced as we turned into the gated parking lot of a fancy office building. He pulled up to a guard shack and lowered his window. The uniformed security officer bent slightly so that he could check out both of us.

"We're here to see Mr. Redding," Griswald told him. "I'm Lawrence Griswald, and this is my associate."

I swallowed a smile, thinking that being called his associate sounded funny.

The security guard nodded. "You’ve been cleared."

He signaled someone else in the guard booth and the bar that blocked the entrance to the lot was raised.

Griswald slowly drove through it and found a parking spot.

Glancing at the makes and models of the vehicles surrounding us, I asked, "What kind of business is this, exactly?"

I saw his knuckles squeeze reflexively around the steering wheel and instinctively squeezed my own hands into fists, knowing I wasn’t going to like his answer. I noticed that he appeared to be gritting his teeth. “Probably not a legal one."

“Oh,” I murmured.

He glanced over at me. "Don't worry, I won't let anything happen to you."

I nodded as we slowly got out of the car. I wondered what Mr. Law and Order was getting us into. It couldn’t be anything good.

4

Have you ever walked into a place that just screamed, albeit silently, luxury and class?

That was not this kind of place. It was the epitome of tacky. Bright colors, suggestive "artwork", and blasting music were all an assault on my senses. After having passed through security, I thought I'd be entering a stuffy, formal, dare I say it, boring, place of business.

Instead, the moment I walked in, I got hit in the face by a beach ball.

"Look out!" someone shouted, too late.

I raised a hand instinctively to protect myself from any other projectiles, and glared at the person who had sent it traveling my way. The woman standing behind the reception desk, wearing some obscure rock group t-shirt, shrugged and then chuckled.

"We're here to see Mr. Redding," Griswald announced.

"Griswald, right?" She asked it in the most casual voice imaginable while cracking her gum.

He nodded curtly. I slid him a sideways look and saw that he was not pleased with how business was being conducted.

"He's on his way down," the receptionist said. Then, as though to accent her point, she blew a giant bubble.

"Grizz!” a man called, emerging from a nearby hallway.

Griswald, his gaze as hard as steel, stared straight forward, refusing to acknowledge the greeting.

I swallowed a grin.

I snuck a look at the man coming toward us. In his late 50s, trying to look like he was in his late 30s, he sported a spray tan, a very expensive hair dye job, and what appeared to be a silk polo shirt.

"I'm Orson Redding," he said, advancing on us, sticking out his hand. Oblivious to the fact that his gesture was being ignored, he grinned widely. "Welcome. Welcome. You come highly recommended."

Griswald grudgingly, at the mention of being recommended and obviously remembering he was doing a favor for somebody, turned his direction. "Mr. Redding."

Redding turned his attention to me. "You are?"

"My associate," Griswald answered before I could open my mouth.

"Single?" Redding asked with a wink.

I gave him a stony look.

“Ah, all business.” Redding smirked. "This way."

He led us down the hallway, through a pair of wide mahogany doors. Once we were ensconced in the room, which looked like it held the contents of a burglary committed by robbers with ADHD, he closed the doors. There was no rhyme or reason to the piles of books, framed art and statues that littered most of the floor.

"Have a seat," he invited, pointing to a pair of free-standing stadium seats that had obviously been plucked from a professional sports arena for bragging rights.

Instead of sitting, Griswald clasped his hands behind his back and straightened his shoulders. I decided it was wisest to follow his example.

Redding plopped himself down on a cowhide-covered sofa. Above it, hung an abstract painting featuring varying nauseating shades of green. I spotted the shades of pea soup, bile and mold.

"You know why you're here," Redding began.

Griswald gave him a tight nod.

"And you understand that I need evidence," Redding continued.

If Orson Redding's wife was stepping out on him, I really couldn't blame her. Then again, who would marry a man like this?

"Why did you want to see us?" Griswald asked finally, his tone flat.

“I like to meet all my employees," Redding replied, with what was supposed to pass for a smile but looked more like a predator baring his teeth. "I was assured that you could be discreet."

Griswald nodded, deigning not to reply.

Redding pointed to a phone on the corner of a bar that seemed to hold every type of liquor ever known to man. "You can use that to track Marilyn."

Griswald's eyebrows shot up.

"I have tracking devices on her car and in her purse," Redding explained.

I found myself stiffening, disliking the man's casual attitude toward invading his spouse’s privacy.

"Should make it easy for you," he continued.

"If you have knowledge of her whereabouts," Griswald said in a quiet voice, "I don't understand why you need me. You would probably be better off with a private detective who specializes in this kind of thing."

I glanced at him, surprised. Apparently, his dislike for Redding was overriding his need to do this favor for the mysterious someone who’d made the request. Not that I could blame him. Orson Redding was so slimy, that I was thinking I’d have to go home and take an hour-long shower just to remove any evidence that I had been in his presence.

"What makes you think I haven't tried that route already?" Redding asked impatiently.

"Well, if they were unable to get what you needed…" Griswald paused a moment, seeming to choose his words carefully. "Maybe the evidence isn't there."

"We’re talking millions of dollars," Redding said. "The evidence has to be there." He made a dismissive waving motion with his hand. "That's all." He turned over on his side, so that he was facing away from us.

Griswald and I glanced at each other, he shrugged, and we opened the doors to leave the room.

"What have you gotten me into?" I asked through gritted teeth as we headed back toward the lobby of the building.

"This does not bode well," he admitted.

"You think?"

5

I was surprised to see Armani, sitting on a rocking chair on the front porch, when Griswald and I returned home. I got out of his car slowly and waved to her. "Everything okay?"

She shrugged. "The idea of facing the picketing protesters was giving me a headache, so I decided to stay home and do something productive. You two can help."

Griswald and I shared a look over the top of his car. "This is not my problem," he muttered softly, and made a beeline toward the back of the house.

That left me alone to deal with my friend. "Do you think, maybe, there's something you could do to appease the protesters?"

She squinted at me. "Whose side are you on?"

"I'm not on anybody’s side," I told her as I slowly climbed the steps of the porch. "I'm just trying to figure out a way that this conflict can be resolved."

"They can mind their own business," Armani said sharply. "That's how this gets resolved."

Deciding that it wasn't worth arguing with her about it, I tried to change the subject. "And what productive thing are you doing now?"

"I bought a new shirt for Herschel," she announced.

Normally, a gift for my grandfather would have been a nice thing, but the fact that she was bent on setting him up with a date made me nervous.

"What kind of shirt?" I imagined her outfitting him in one of those t-shirts featuring a photograph of a man's well-defined abs or one with a suggestive slogan. Neither was befitting a man in his 70s.

She scowled and shook her head. “You have no trust, Chica. It’s sad.”

"You know he does not have the best taste in women," I began carefully.

"That's why I'm helping him," she said. "Between my PMS and Sly’s algorithm tweaking, we'll find him the perfect match."

I rolled my eyes. Her obsession with using PMS when describing her psychic matchmaking service was a source of irritation. More than once, I'd suggested that she change the name, but she refused to entertain the idea.

I turned away from her and stared out at the barn, watching Irma, the donkey, and Billy, the goat, frolicking around their newly constructed paddock.

"How's this look?" my grandfather asked as he stepped out of the house and onto the porch.

"Excellent!" Armani cheered enthusiastically.

I turned slowly, unsure of what I'd find. To my surprise, Herschel looked good. She'd picked out a long-sleeved blue and white flannel shirt that suited him well.

He looked to me expectantly.

"You look very handsome," I assured him.

He grinned. "Let's get this show on the road."

"What show?" I asked with alarm.

"It's photo shoot time," Armani said. She struggled to get out of the rocking chair before telling us, "I think we should start in the barn."

He nodded, hooked his elbow around her good arm, and they walked side-by-side off the porch and out to the barn.

I made no move to follow them.

"He does deserve to be happy," God piped up, scrambling from my bra to my shoulder.

"I want him to be happy," I said. "But he does have terrible taste in women. Look at my grandmother. Look at Nonnie." I shuddered as the name of his last girlfriend escaped my lips. “She’s a murderer.”

“So are you,” the lizard pointed out.

“You know what I mean,” I muttered. Despite the fact I am a contract killer, I didn’t kill people for personal gain. I did it to pay medical bills. And besides, I only kill bad people, not innocent saps.

"She hasn't been convicted yet," God reminded me.

"But she's in jail with no bail," I countered. "And we both know she's guilty."

"True," he conceded. "But maybe the third time will be the charm for Herschel. Armani does have a bit of a successful track record as a matchmaker.”

I closed my eyes and didn't reply.

That's why I didn't see him coming.

"Hey, Lee," a voice called softly.

My eyes snapped open, and I found Nat Hunting, a bale of hay balanced on his shoulder, watching me. I gulped hard as a wave of panic washed over me.

"You okay?"

"What are you doing?" I struggled to breathe as I asked the question.

"I’m the prop master for Armani's photo shoot," he revealed with a good-natured grin.

"You shouldn't encourage her," I told him.

He shrugged. "I’ve got nothing else better to do." After a moment's pause, he asked carefully, "Are we okay?"

"Why wouldn't we be?" I squeaked out. I'd meant it to sound casual, but the pitch of my voice gave away how tense I was.

"I get that you're upset," he began.

"Hey, muscles," Armani shouted from the entrance of the barn. "I told you I need that by the swing, not by the porch."

"She's a demanding boss," Nat joked. He hitched the block of straw higher on his shoulder and moved toward the kids’ swing set behind the house.

I swayed weakly and realized I hadn’t taken in enough oxygen during our conversation.

"You really need to fix things with him," God said. "He's your friend, and you're acting like he's⁠—"

"Maggie!" Griswald shouted. He was jogging toward his car. "Come with me! It’s an emergency."

“What now?” God groaned.

Since it was an excuse to get out of the photo shoot and away from Nat, I didn't hesitate to meet him at his vehicle. I slipped into the passenger seat and waited for him to start the engine before I asked, "What's going on?"

Griswald grumbled, "Brian just reached out. Apparently, the police have been called in for the protest at The Corset."

"Let me out," I said, reaching for the door handle. Despite the fact that we were speeding down the driveway, I was prepared to leap.

"But I need your help," Griswald said. "Loretta needs your help."

“I don't want to get involved," I told him.

"You’re family," Griswald told me grimly, "you're already involved."

6

There was quite the police presence at the strip mall where The Corset is located.

"I hope your aunt hasn't done anything stupid," Griswald muttered under his breath as he pulled into a parking spot at the rear of the lot. “There’s only so much Brian can do to keep this under wraps.”

"This is Loretta we’re talking about," I said as we both hopped out of the car. "She's not known for making common sense decisions."

Together, we hurried toward the crowd gathered in front of the lingerie shop. A couple of people were carrying posterboard signs, but most seemed like gossiping onlookers.

"Sinner!" a female voice shrieked. "You're ruining the world for everybody else."

"That seems extreme," God piped up from my bra.

Thankfully, over the murmurings of the crowd, Griswald did not hear the squeaking lizard.

"You don't appreciate how much I've done for these local businesses," I could hear Aunt Loretta screaming back. "Do you know how much publicity I generated with my Flashdance?"

God chuckled. "I assume she's talking about the flash mob.”

"Maybe she's talking about reenacting the scrappy female welder slash exotic dancer who dreams of becoming a ballerina," I joked.

While Griswald couldn’t hear the lizard, he did understand me and shot me a dirty look for daring to make light of the escalating situation.

"Sorry," I murmured, averting my gaze.

"Excuse me," Griswald said, trying to wind his way through the wall of bodies that blocked the view of the altercation we could hear going on.

The crowd didn't budge.

"Move, morons!" I shouted, pushing past him and bulldozing a path.

Startled, people instinctively stepped out of the way of the crazy woman trying to wade through them.

Griswald followed closely behind me. "I brought you along, hoping you could be tactful," he felt the urge to point out.

“I did ask to be left at home,” I reminded him with more than a hint of hostility.

We reached the front of the crowd and I spotted Aunt Loretta, chest heaving, her ample bosom straining to escape the confines of her barely-there bra, facing off against a woman who had two pink bows in her hair.

Now, don't get me wrong, I think Aunt Loretta looks ridiculous most of the time, but a grown woman with pink bows looked even more so.

Detective Brian Griswald, looking more frazzled than authoritative, was dancing between the two women like a referee trying to keep a pair of boxers from knocking each other out. "Ladies," he tried.

"She's no lady," the woman in the bows screeched.

"And she's an uptight Puritan," Loretta spat back.

"I'm sure we can find a peaceful solution to this," Brian tried again.

The women didn't stop glaring at each other.

"You look like a pair of idiots," I announced.

The crowd gasped at my audacity. My aunt and her nemesis glared at me.

Behind me, Griswald moaned, "Not helpful."

Undeterred, I turned and waved at the crowd. "Nothing to see here, folks. Get on your way."

When nobody moved, I pulled out my phone and began recording. "These are people who have nothing better to do than stand around and gossip about a dispute between two business owners."

Shame can be an effective and powerful motivator. The crowd quickly dispersed, raising their hands to cover their faces as they scurried away. We live in a world where people love to celebrate the downfall of others, while attempting to appear virtuous themselves.

"Maggie," Loretta pouted. "I don't know what you think you're doing here but⁠—"

"Hush," I told her sternly.

"You are rude, poorly behaved—" the woman wearing the bows commented.

"I'm an adult," I told them both without hesitation. "It's something the two of you should try." With that, I breezed past Loretta, Brian, and the bow woman and marched into The Corset.

Griswald followed closely behind. "Well, that was a unique way to solve the problem."

"That's not a solution," I corrected. "It's a distraction. I'm going to assume that you are going to figure out what the solution is."

"I'm sort of regretting bringing you along," he muttered.

"I told you I don’t want to be involved," I told him. "I'm tired of listening to Aunt Loretta having the same problem over and over again. Maybe she does need to close up the shop and leave."

"The spirits said I don't have to," Loretta said, walking in behind her brother-in-law.

I rolled my eyes and made a mental note to talk to Armani about exactly what kind of message the spirits had given her about the lingerie shop.

Griswald looked beyond Loretta and saw that Brian was scribbling something down on a pad of paper. "Maybe I should go see if I can help him." He sidled around Loretta and retreated to the safety of his nephew’s side.

"What happened?" I asked my aunt impatiently.

"Just look at this place," Loretta cried. She raised her arms and waved to encompass the entire building.

Looking around, I realized that most of the displays and mannequins had been knocked over, like someone had played a game of dominoes with the store fixtures.

"She did this!"

"Who?" I asked carefully.

"Donna," Loretta replied with conviction. "She's been protesting outside the store and now she's broken in and caused chaos."

I did a quick spin around, taking in the mess. While things were chaotic, it didn't appear, at least to my untrained eye, that anything had been stolen or permanently damaged.

"We can put this back together," I told her, trying to keep the note of resignation from seeping into my tone. It was the last way I wanted to spend my day, but I could see that she'd need help to get things back in order.

"You'll help me?" she asked, sounding pitiful.

I nodded. "You could have just asked for some help instead of starting a fight with her."

"I didn't start the fight," she replied hotly. "She did, by breaking in here."

"There's no evidence there was a break-in," Detective Brian Griswald announced as he stepped through the doorway. "Are you sure you just didn't leave the place unlocked? It could be kids happened past and just had some fun in here.”

"Of course I didn’t leave it unlocked!" Loretta replied, sounding like he mortally offended her. "How irresponsible do you think I am?"

"Well,” he pointed out. “You did just threaten to kill a woman in front of a crowd of people.”

7

“Hold him still!”

“I’m trying!” I gasped.

Whoever had trashed The Corset had done a thorough job. While nothing was ruined, it wasn't easy to put it back together quickly. I knew this because I was gasping for breath as I tried, along with Aunt Loretta, to put a pair of leather chaps back on the well-endowed mannequin who’d ended up with them around his ankles.

"Hold him still!” Loretta repeated.

"I'm doing my best," I panted. "I had better things to do today than to play dress-up with your sex toys."

"Like what?" she grunted. "Helping some gazillionaire get out of his prenup?"

"She has a point," God said. He had insisted that he observe the entire resetting of the shop from a vantage point on top of the cash register. Oddly, it was the only thing that appeared to have not been disturbed during the blitz attack against the store. "It's not like chasing after a cheating spouse to get proof of adultery is a highbrow way to spend your time."

Instead of replying to either of them, I asked, "Why does it smell like cotton candy on steroids in here?"

"That's the Love Goo," Loretta explained.

"What's Love Goo?" God asked in a repulsed tone.

I pressed my lips firmly together, smart enough to know that that was not a question I should ask my aunt.

"Never fear," Armani declared, limping into the shop. "Your backup is here!"

I peered over the mannequin’s shoulder and saw that my friend, followed by Templeton, had arrived. I let out a slight sigh of relief. If anybody could get Loretta to listen to reason, it was her better half.

"Don't get the wrong idea about my intentions toward Ricky," Loretta said, batting her fake eyelashes at her beau. "I'm not feeling him up. I'm just getting him dressed."

"Looks like a threesome to me," Armani quipped.

I rested my head on the mannequin’s shoulder and shook my head. Here I'd been thinking I'd be spared some of Loretta's commentary. I should've known it was only going to get worse with Armani present.

"You weren't kidding when you said this place looked like a war zone," my friend decided, surveying the mess. "I guess it was worthwhile to cut Herschel's glam shot shoot short, after all."

"Glam shot shoot?" my aunt exclaimed. "Tell me you didn't dress him in a boa!"

"Of course not," Armani said. "I put him in flannel. He's rugged. Virile."

Aunt Loretta made a gagging sound. "Could you please not talk about my daddy like that?"

"Could you please stop calling him Daddy?" Templeton muttered.

I'm not sure that my aunt heard him, but I shot him a sympathetic look and almost fell over as Loretta gave one last heave to the chaps.

"Got it!" she squealed with delight. To emphasize her point, she reached around and smacked the mannequin’s exposed buttocks.

I wrestled Ricky back into place in front of the display window. A move that made me inadvertently brush against some of the sticky pink substance that had been smeared down the wall. When I tried to swipe it off my cheek, I realized it had ended up in my hair. "I need a break.”

"It smells too sweet in here," Templeton remarked, wrinkling his nose with distaste.

"That's Love Goo," Loretta told him. "Remember, I told you about it?"

"I remember," he said weakly.

"But you didn't want to try anything new the week that I wanted to sample it," his lover accused.

"Could you please not talk about your sex life in front of me?" I begged.

"You’re such a prude, Maggie.” Loretta clucked at me disapprovingly.

"Go take your break, Chica," Armani said. "We'll get to work in here."

“You’d think the spirits would have warned you this was going to happen,” I muttered under my breath.

My friend heard me and lectured, “They told me what’s important, that the investor will fail.”

“What investor?” I asked suspiciously.

“The one who wants to buy the strip mall,” Loretta called out. “The current owner is getting ready to sell. The vote’s in a couple of days. It’s what all our neighbors have been buzzing about.”

“I thought they were buzzing about The Corset,” I remarked dryly.

“Just a couple are complainers,” Armani offered. “Most people think we add value to this place,” she announced proudly.

I found that hard to believe.

“We drive foot traffic and page views,” Loretta added.

That, I did believe, but I doubted it helped the other businesses, not that it was worth arguing about. “I need that break,” I muttered, heading toward my escape.

"Don't leave me here with the stench!" God called as I headed toward the storeroom in the back of the shop.

Rolling my eyes, I pivoted, snatched him off the cash register, and marched away before I could be roped into helping them put the tassels back on the mannequin that Aunt Loretta called Kitty.

“You stink,” God informed me as I hurried through the storeroom and out the back door of the building.

“I know,” I muttered, bursting outside, into the loading zone behind the strip mall. I sucked in a couple of deep breaths like I’d just run the 50-yard dash.

“And you’re sticky,” the lizard complained.

“Hey, Mags,” a voice said softly.

Whirling around, I found Detective Patrick Mulligan, my murder mentor and former lover, watching me.

“I couldn’t smell Minty over the sweet stench,” God drawled dryly.

I stared up at the redhead, wide-eyed, as he considered the sticky, stinky pink goo that coated the side of my face and hair.

“Interesting look,” he murmured, clearly amused.

My cheeks warmed. Here I was, a sticky mess, and he was looking as handsome as ever. I managed to ask, “What are you doing here?”

He shrugged. “Brian asked me to stop by and see if I could find any evidence of a break-in.”

“So, you’re here in an official capacity.”

He tilted his head from side to side. “More like, I’m doing a favor for a coworker.”

“And did you find anything interesting?”

“Besides you?” He stepped nearer and leaned down so he could get a better look at the pink sticky stuff.

He was close enough that I could smell his minty breath. I tried to ignore the way my heart beat faster at his nearness.

“What is that?” he asked, his tone low and intimate.

“Love Goo,” I murmured.

His green gaze slid over to meet mine. “You don’t need that stuff to attract a man, Mags.” His tone was heavy with unspoken desire. He shifted, bringing himself closer to me.

My breath caught in my throat as I wondered if he was going to kiss me. I wasn’t sure how I’d react if he did. We’ve always been pulled to each other, and we’d acted on it at one time, but he’d dumped me for an ex. An ex who’d tried to kill him. And me. And who I’d inadvertently killed with a wayward syringe. So, there’s quite a bit of history between us, but the attraction was still there.

I don’t know if it was because I was lonely or if he was just hotter than usual, but I swayed toward him slightly.

“Not this again,” God muttered.

The lizard’s voice acted like a splash of cold water hitting me squarely in the face. I instinctively retreated, shattering the moment. Clearing my throat, I looked away from Patrick. “Did you find evidence of a break-in?”

He, too, took a step back and reverted to a more professional tone. “I did not. Do you think they could have left the shop unlocked?”

I shrugged. “Maybe. But Aunt Loretta almost bit Brian’s head off when he made that suggestion.”

“Was anything stolen?”

“Doesn’t appear so.”

“Could have just been some harmless kids,” he suggested. “Teenagers revved up on hormones who got a laugh over trashing a sex shop.”

“Could be,” I agreed, trying to keep my own revving hormones in check.

He squinted at me. “You don’t look convinced.”

I shrugged. “Apparently, they’ve been dealing with protestors.”

“I saw them out front. Brian is arranging to have patrol cars come through regularly. Hopefully, that’ll keep the protests in check and the vandals at bay.”

“There you are!” a voice called.

I jumped a little and then turned to find Detective Brian Griswald striding through the parking lot toward us.

“Find anything?” he asked.

“Nope,” Patrick replied easily. “No evidence that any other shop was broken into.”

Brian scowled as he focused on me. “Do you think it’s possible they left the door unlocked?”

“I wasn’t here when they closed up,” I replied carefully. “But I guess it’s a possibility.”

Brian nodded.

“But the damage,” I ventured. “It was strange. Nothing stolen. Nothing really ruined. It just looks like an oversized toddler was on the loose in there.”

The detective considered the observation for a long moment. “Almost like somebody was trying to send a message.”

I nodded.

“Any idea what the message was?”

I shook my head.

Brian frowned. “At this point, all we can do is wait and see if anything happens.”

“We’re just going to wait for things to escalate?” I asked incredulously.

“Unless you have a better plan.”

Unfortunately, I did not.

8

“Aunt Maggie! Aunt Maggie!” My niece, Katie, was jumping up and down on the front porch when I got home hours later.

Her quieter cousin, Alicia, sat in a rocking chair, her nose buried in a book. DeeDee, the Doberman, peered over her shoulder like the dog, too, was reading. I thought it highly unlikely, considering she can’t put a sentence together in the correct order.

It had taken a long time to get The Corset put back together. I was tired, still sweetly sticky, and all I wanted was to take a shower, but I could see that Katie was excited. I forced myself to smile at her as I climbed out of my car. “What’s up?”

“We’re having pizza for dinner!” she crowed with delight. “Real pizza!”

My grin turned genuine as I absorbed her enthusiasm. “Yay!”

“Susan has her quilter’s club meeting and Templeton has been at Loretta’s shop helping with clean up. With both of our cooks out of commission, I made the executive decision to order pizza,” my grandfather explained, coming up behind me.

“Sounds like a plan,” I replied. “One that Katie approves of.”

“I’m glad she does, because you know that my oldest daughter won’t,” he grumbled.

I nodded sympathetically. Aunt Susan abhors takeout and would no doubt give her father an earful about it. “Do I have time to shower before it gets here?” I pointed to my matted hair that had absorbed Love Goo. “I was helping at The Corset and got this on me.”

Herschel glanced at his watch. “Take a quick one if you want a piping hot slice.”

“I’d kiss you,” I told him. “But I don’t want to get this stuff on you.”

He chuckled and waved me off.

I sprinted toward the house, telling my nieces, “I need to wash my hair. I’ll be right out.”

“I’ll save you a piece,” Alicia offered.

“Thank you, sweetie.” I dashed inside and raced toward my bedroom, not because I was that desperate for a shower, but because I wanted to avoid getting stuck talking to anyone.

Once inside, I closed the door and leaned back against it, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Rough day, Sugar?” Piss purred from where she was curled up on my pillow.

“It’s been a long one,” I agreed as I put God into his terrarium.

“I’ll inform her of the day’s activities,” the lizard announced. “You go rid yourself of the sticky stench.”

Leaving them to it, I went and took a quick shower, grateful for hot water and sudsy shampoo. By the time I emerged, the lizard was curled up beneath his piece of driftwood and snoring softly. I dressed quickly and then I left with Piss to go in search of pizza.

Nobody was in the dining room, and I didn’t hear anyone in the kitchen, but I popped my head in, just to make sure dinner hadn’t been delivered and devoured already.

“Give me a hand?” Templeton asked, smiling over the refrigerator door at me. I took that to mean that Loretta and Armani were back from The Corset, too.

“You bet.”

“Katie requested that we dine al fresco,” he explained as he handed me a jug of iced tea. “Or, as she put it, Pizza on the Porch.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Susan’s not too happy about it,” he confided as he paused to quickly pour a saucer of cream for my one-eyed cat.

“Herschel made the right choice,” I said.

“I agree. Tell your aunt that.”

“Thank you,” Piss purred gratefully as he put the saucer down.

He glanced at the damp hair framing my face. “I see you’ve gotten rid of the Love Goo.”

“Finally!”

He chuckled, handed over a pitcher of ice water, and dove into the pantry to pull out the paper goods we’d need for the porch dining experience.

“Do you think Loretta left the shop unlocked?” I rested the heavy, cold drink containers on the counter as he rummaged.

“She swears she didn’t,” he replied.

“Brian seemed doubtful,” I admitted.

Arms full of paper plates, cups and napkins, Templeton kicked the pantry door closed. “Your aunt is many things, and I know she can be flighty sometimes, but I believe her. She loves that place, it was her dream, and she treats it with more care than any human.”

I nodded slowly. “You might be right.”

“I made sure it was locked up tight tonight, so if anything happens…”

I nodded my understanding.

“Pizza! The Pizza Man is here!” Katie shrieked from outside.

Chuckling, we headed toward the porch.

I’d just maneuvered between Loretta and Armani and plopped the drinks down on the table between the rocking chairs when I heard a sharp intake of breath.

I looked at my friend, worried I’d somehow hurt her with my klutziness, as she sank into the chair directly behind her as though she was too weak to stand. Eyes round, she was staring at the guy delivering the pizza. I turned to look at him, wondering why she looked so shocked.

He was short and stocky, with a tattoo stretching from one collarbone to the other that spelled something out in one of those fonts that you need a degree in hieroglyphics to decipher.

Herschel and Susan were approaching him as he pulled a couple of insulated bags out of the trunk of his car.

I sensed Armani moving. Glancing over, I saw that she was pushing back in her seat, like she needed as much distance between herself and the deliveryman as possible.

A chill skittered down the back of my neck. Armani doesn’t scare easily, but she looked shrunken and terrified as she stared at the stranger.

“DeeDee,” I murmured, snapping my fingers. “With me.”

The dog rushed to my side and kept pace with me as I moved toward my aunt and grandfather, determined to protect them from whatever threat the pizza guy might be.

“What’s wrong, Sugar?” Piss meowed softly. Having picked up on my tension, she kept pace opposite the dog.

We were too close to the others to answer her, so I didn’t reply. I moved nearer as quickly as I could, ready to strike if the stranger made a move.

“Matilda, Billy, Rowdy, Percival!” Piss shrieked. “We need you.”

The pizza man, in the midst of handing Aunt Susan a pile of pizza boxes, stared at the yowling cat. Herschel shot me an alarmed look, having understood what Piss had said.

The oinking pig waddled, and the bleating goat pranced over from the barn. The blind peacock started screeching, “Danger! Danger!” as he ran in circles. Rowdy, the raccoon, raced to stand beside Piss, seething with adolescent angst.

“Beat it, buster!” Mike cawed, landing in front of me and facing off against the mystery man.

“Kill! Kill!” one of the falcons squawked as the pair swooped overhead.

Susan turned and tried to hand the food to me, but I shook my head, not taking my eyes off the man. I sensed Templeton coming up behind me and guessed he’d read from my body language that something was wrong.

“Protect,” DeeDee growled softly.

My aunt looked from me to the dog to the gathering of noisy animals, confused and nervous.

Templeton glided past me, grabbed her elbow, and propelled her away from the possible danger.

“Keep the change,” Herschel told the other man tersely, holding out a wad of cash.

The delivery guy shook his head, making no move to take the money, a malevolent smile spreading across his face. “Tell Armani, it’s on the house.”

Susan looked to where my friend sat on the porch.

The pizza guy followed her gaze, locked eyes with Armani, and blew her a kiss.

She visibly shuddered.

Chuckling, he climbed back into his car and drove off.

“Make sure he leaves,” I implored the animals.

DeeDee and Piss chased after the car. Mike and the falcons flew ahead.

“What was that about?” Susan asked, clearly shaken.

I didn’t know. But I knew it wasn’t good.

9

“Throw it away,” Armani choked out. Terror made her voice thin and shaky.

“No!” Katie protested. “I want pizza. Pizza on the Porch!”

“Hush, child!” Susan said sharply.

Katie’s lower lip trembled, but she fell silent.

“The food could be poisoned,” Armani insisted. “I wouldn’t put it past him. It’s not safe to eat.”

Templeton took the pile of boxed pies from Susan. “We don’t want to risk anyone getting sick,” he said firmly.

“But…!” Katie whined.

“I know it’s a hardship, but we’re just going to have to have fluffernutter sandwiches and s’mores,” he announced.

“Really?” Alicia asked, looking up from her book. “That’s a lot of sugar.”

“Really,” Templeton said in a tone that allowed no argument. The adults all knew his proclamation was meant to shut down the adults from protesting.

“Yay!” Katie shouted. “Even better!”

“I’m just going to dispose of these.” He nodded toward the pizza boxes he held. “You girls meet me in the kitchen.”

My nieces didn’t have to be told twice. They raced into the house.

Templeton headed toward the outdoor trash can to dump the pies.

I turned to Matilda, Billy and Rowdy and shook my finger at each of them individually. “Stay out of the garbage. That food could be deadly. Don’t you dare touch it. Do you understand?”

“Okay,” Matilda grunted and headed back toward the barn.

“Killjoy,” Billy bleated balefully before following the pig.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I glared at Rowdy, waiting for the raccoon to agree. After all, it was in her nature to go through the trash.

“Fine,” she huffed. “But remember that there is wildlife starving somewhere.” She ran into the woods.

My grandfather chuckled at her antics.

“He’s gone,” Mike reported from a nearby tree. “The birds of prey are following him. With any luck, he’ll go so far away that they’ll get lost and not come back.” He beat his wings and flew away.

“Gone man bad is!” DeeDee panted, running up to me.

Piss followed a few paces behind.

“Can you go stay with the girls?” I requested. “They’re in the kitchen.”

DeeDee took off to fulfill her guard duties. It probably didn’t hurt that the kitchen was the favorite room of the always hungry Doberman. No doubt she was hoping she could do her job and snag some extra treats while doing it.

I held up a finger, indicating I wanted the cat to wait behind. “Can you bring me God before you watch over the girls?”

“You’ve got it, Sugar,” Piss meowed and raced off.

“You don’t really expect the cat to fetch the lizard, do you?” Aunt Susan asked incredulously.

Herschel took his daughter’s arm and led her back toward the porch.

“I don’t understand what just happened,” she complained.

“Me neither,” I muttered under my breath, but I was going to find out.

Even Aunt Loretta had recognized the seriousness of the situation and poured a glass of water for Armani. “Take a sip,” she coaxed kindly as we climbed the stairs of the porch. “You’ll feel better.”

Armani took the drink but didn’t raise it to her lips.

“Who was that man?” Susan demanded to know.

Armani’s gaze flitted furtively from my aunt to me.

“It’s okay,” I told her. I knelt on one knee beside her. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. We always do.” I flashed what I hoped was an encouraging smile, even though the tension emanating from her was making me feel sick to my stomach.

She nodded and took a fortifying sip of water. “I don’t know where to begin.”

“What’s his name?” I asked gently, as a returning Piss wound her way through my legs and God leapt from her back to my knee.

“I sleep for ten minutes and everything goes crazy,” the lizard complained on a whisper. He quickly scampered up my body until he was perched on my shoulder.

“Trey. Trey Pito.” Armani’s voice was shaky.

“And how do you know him?” I prompted patiently.

“He’s an ex-boyfriend. An evil ex.” Her eyes filled with tears.

“We’ve all had those, honey,” Loretta assured her.

“I haven’t,” Susan argued.

“Because you’re the most boring person on Earth!” her sister snapped back.

“Girls,” Herschel murmured.

“Sorry, Daddy,” his daughters responded in unison.

I did my best not to roll my eyes, and focused on my friend. “I take it things didn’t end well with Trey?”

Armani shook her head. “They didn’t go well. They didn’t end well.” She leaned forward and stared at me. “He’s dangerous, Chica. Really dangerous.”

I nodded my acknowledgement of the warning.

“I don’t understand how he got out,” she continued. “I wouldn’t have stayed here if I’d known he was a free man. I wouldn’t have risked putting you all in danger.” The tears she’d been trying to hold back began to flow.

“Out of what?” Loretta asked. “Were you two into bondage?”

“Hush, sister,” Susan warned sharply. “Can’t you see she’s distraught?”

Loretta looked to their father for backup, but Herschel just shook his head. She pressed her lips together, on the verge of a pout.

“I don’t know how he got out of prison,” Armani revealed.

“Oh my!” Loretta gasped. “You really do like bad boys!”

I glared at my aunt. “Not another word.”

Susan scowled at her.

“What was he in prison for, dear?” Susan asked with forced kindness.

I appreciated that she understood the gravity of the situation and was making the effort.

Armani took another gulp of water and let out a shaky breath. “Murder.”

“Oh my!” Loretta murmured, then slapped a hand over her mouth when she remembered she wasn’t supposed to be speaking.

“I testified against him,” Armani confided. “I helped convict him.”

“And you think he wants revenge?” Herschel asked.

She shrugged pitifully.

“When was this?” I asked, wondering how long the killer had been nursing his grudge.

“Right before I came to work at Insuring the Future,” she explained. “He hates me. He swore he’d make me pay.”

“He must be the one who trashed The Corset!” Loretta declared.

“We don’t know that,” I told her.

“He’s got motive,” she argued. “And I certainly didn’t leave the place unlocked, despite what that so-called detective, Brian Griswald, suggested.”

“Loretta!” Susan yelled. “Can you please superglue your mouth shut so the grown-ups can figure this thing out?”

“But—” Loretta began to protest.

“You need to go inside,” Herschel told her firmly.

Loretta blinked a protest, a move that made her fake eyelashes dance like a fuzzy caterpillar on crack, then pursed her lips and stalked into the house.

“She might be right,” Armani said softly. “He could be responsible for the break-in at the store.”

“We shouldn’t make any assumptions,” I told her, trying to sound calm.

“What we should do is bring Lawrence into this conversation,” Susan stressed.

“I think that’s a very good idea.” If there was a convicted murderer on the loose and wanting revenge, things could get very dangerous.

10

It had been a long night. Everyone had been on edge because of Armani’s revelations. She’d offered to go stay at a hotel, so as to not endanger anyone, but as Aunt Susan had said, “When the going gets tough, our family sticks together.”

My heart had swelled when she’d said Armani was family, and I’d seen my friend’s eyes fill with tears.

Griswald had called his nephew and requested that the uniformed cops be made aware and that they make a couple of extra passes around our property. Then, Griswald had set himself up on the porch with a thermos of coffee and his gun.

I’d worked with my grandfather to set up security patrols with the animals. I’d done mine first, with DeeDee, Piss, Matilda, the pig, and, of course, God. Afterward, Herschel had done his sweeps with DeeDee, Billy, the goat, and Irma, the donkey.

Alejandro, the llama, and Percival, the peacock, had been joined on their regular rounds by Rowdy, the raccoon, and Mike, the crow.

Having patrolled all night, the Doberman was so exhausted that she’d eaten her breakfast and promptly fallen fast asleep across the doorway into the kitchen. I knew how she felt. I’d gotten less than four hours of sleep myself.

Not wanting to disturb the dozing pup, I carefully stepped over her still form and slid into the kitchen, which was filled with the aroma of coffee and fresh baked goods.

“Morning,” Templeton greeted softly as he filled a mug with the magic brew.

“Morning,” I murmured, thankful that he was around to begin the day with a more pleasant start. I collapsed into the nearest chair at the kitchen table.

“I guess everyone had a pretty rough night,” he said. “Piss hasn’t been in yet for her cream.”

“She’s napping on my bed.” I didn’t share that I’d left God sleeping in his terrarium.

He slid the steaming mug in front of me. “Coffee cake?”

“Not yet. Am I the first one up?”

“No, Leslie and Marlene took the girls to have breakfast in the barn so they wouldn’t wake anybody.”

I tensed, worried that they were out there alone and unprotected.

“Relax,” Templeton urged, noting my reaction. “Hunting is with them.”

I glanced up sharply. “What’s he doing here?” Even as I asked the question, I relaxed a little. I might have my own unresolved issues with the man, but I trusted him to protect my family.

“Griswald called him in,” he revealed with a yawn.

I picked up my coffee. “I guess you didn’t get much sleep last night.”

He shrugged. “Did anyone?”

The outside door opened, and we looked to see who was joining us.

Marlene breezed in, with a wide smile and a twinkle in her eye. “Leslie and Nat are requesting coffee and something to eat that isn’t shaped like a teddy bear.”

Watching her, I wondered if Aunt Loretta was right. She did look like a woman in love.

“Of course.” Templeton began rummaging in a cupboard.

“The girls are okay?” I asked.

“They’re great.” My sister grinned. “They loved sharing their breakfasts with the donkey, goat, pig and rabbit. That was an inspired idea, Templeton.”

“Glad it helped,” he replied. “What about you? Do you want breakfast, too?”

“I’ll have something after I shower,” she replied. “I’ve got to get ready for work soon.”

He filled two travel mugs with coffee.

“Speaking of work.” Marlene turned her attention to me. “Do you remember Farty Freddy?”

I glanced nervously in Templeton’s direction, wondering why my sister was bringing up one of Loretta’s ex-husbands in front of him. I nodded slightly.

“He came into the shop yesterday,” Marlene announced. “Apparently, he’s taken up quilting.”

I sipped my coffee, in no mood to converse about Loretta’s ex who’d suffered from an extreme case of flatulence.

“I couldn’t believe he even recognized me,” Marlene continued, undaunted. “But he did, and he stopped so that we could catch up.”

I stiffened and, at the same time, I saw out of the corner of my eye that Templeton, who’d been reloading the coffeemaker, paused mid-task.

“Catch up how?” I asked carefully. I could tell that, although Templeton had remained silent, he was listening intently to the conversation.

“He asked what I was up to, what everyone was doing, and, of course, how Aunt Loretta was.”

“Of course,” I muttered.

“I don’t think he ever got over her,” Marlene confided. “Most of her men never do.”

I cocked my head in Templeton’s direction, trying to remind her that Loretta’s current paramour was standing right there, but Marlene was oblivious.

“He kept saying how special she is and that she deserves everything she’s worked for,” Marlene continued.

“You told him about The Corset?” I asked, tension coiling through my body.

She shook her head. “Oh, he already knew about it. He saw the flash mob on TV. He said he’d even gone in once to try to see her, but she hadn’t been working.”

I shot Templeton a look. Her revelation had frozen him in place as he’d been cutting slices of coffee cake for Leslie and Nat Hunting. “He’s one of her ex-husbands,” I explained. “We’ll have to tell Griswald. He might be a suspect, too.”

Marlene laughed. “Farty Freddy, a suspect? For what? The Corset vandalism? You know the man wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

I frowned. “The timing of him showing up, not to mention, he tracked you down at the fabric store, is suspicious.”

“You’re paranoid, Maggie. Just because your boyfriend got himself killed because he was a common criminal, doesn’t mean⁠—”

“Shut up!” I shouted at her.

My raised voice both cut off her sentence and roused the sleeping dog.

“Protect,” DeeDee growled sleepily, getting to her feet.

I glared at Marlene, furious about her insulting Gino. There’d been nothing common about him. And he wasn’t dead. Not that she needed to know that. But she should have known better than to mess with me. Especially when I hadn’t finished my coffee. I’d killed people. Not that she needed to know that, either.

She stepped back, frightened by the murderous glint in my eye.

“Marlene, go take your shower,” Templeton told her sternly.

She didn’t need a second offer to escape and scurried from the room.

My hands shook slightly as I gripped my warm mug. I stared down at the drink, trying to regain my composure.

“Okay, Maggie you are?” DeeDee panted nervously, planting her chin on my thigh and staring up at me with dark, worried eyes.

“Everything’s okay,” I promised her, stroking the spot between her eyes.

“I’m going to take this out to the barn.” Templeton held up a tray with the insulated mugs and slabs of coffee cake.

“Let me do it.” I stood up and took a couple of gulps of coffee, draining my mug. I wanted to check on my nieces and thank the animals for all their hard work the night before.

“You’re not dressed,” he pointed out gently.

I looked down at my pajamas, robe and fuzzy slippers. Hunting had seen me in less. “It’s fine.”

“Okay,” Templeton agreed. “Thanks.” As he handed over the tray, he asked, “Is this Freddy a threat?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. We were just kids when he and Loretta were together, and they weren’t together very long. Susan would probably know better than me. If you see her or Griswald before I do, mention him to them.”

He nodded.

As I headed for the door leading outside, he called after me, “Maggie?”

I glanced back, balancing the tray.

“Gino was a good guy.”

Eyes brimming with hot tears, I offered him a thankful smile and pushed my way outside with DeeDee following.

“Cry don’t,” the dog urged.

“I’m not,” I told her, blinking rapidly. “I just get a little sad thinking about Gino.”

“Life he’s but better a living,” she panted sincerely.

I took a deep breath. Her grammar was terrible, but her sentiment was right. Gino was living a better life. Instead of being a bodyguard for a mobster, he was working with Ms. Whitehat’s mysterious organization, making the world a better place. I was glad for him. It just sucked that we couldn’t ever be together again. But at least he wasn’t dead.

“Things could be worse,” I murmured.

And then I almost dropped the tray when I heard the panicked whistling of Alejandro, the llama, sounding the alarm. “Incoming!”

11

The llama’s warning set off a chain reaction.

“Intruder alert! Intruder alert!” the peacock shrieked.

“Danger!” Irma brayed.

“Protect!” DeeDee barked before racing toward the barn to guard the children.

“Prepare for battle!” Billy bleated. For good measure, he butted his head against the paddock and then slipped between the bars.

“Fight!” Matilda squealed.

“Kill! Kill!” one of the falcons shrieked from overhead.

I took that to mean they’d found their way back after following Trey Pito, the pizza delivery guy.

If people had been asleep in the house, the worried cacophony of the animals would have woken them as Detective Brian Griswald’s vehicle, followed by two squad cars, came barreling down the driveway.

Watching the three approach, I understood why Alejandro had warned of incoming. Something was very wrong if three police cars were showing up.

Nat Hunting stalked out of the barn as the “incoming” drew closer. “What’s going on?”

I shrugged, clueless.

He hurried over and stood beside me. “This doesn’t look good.”

“What do you think is going on?”

“How should I know? This is your crazy family we’re talking about.”

Brian parked in front of the porch and hopped out of his car. “I need to talk to Loretta and Armani,” he announced, his voice cold and professional. Then, he did a double take as

Piss, with God on her back, came running out.

Recovering, Brian demanded to know, “Where are they?”

“I think they’re still sleeping,” I replied as the lizard leapt from the cat to me and scrambled up to my shoulder.

Brian turned to walk up the porch steps.

“Do you have a warrant?” I called after him.

“Lee!” Nat warned on a whisper, trying to prevent me from antagonizing the other man who was there in a professional capacity.

I shoved the tray at him and stalked toward the detective. “You can’t go in there without a warrant!” I knew that because for a good part of my childhood, the cops had shown up on a semi-regular basis to bust my father.

Sensing their professional comrade was in danger from the woman in the fuzzy slippers that was advancing on him, the four uniformed patrolmen, sitting in their cars, climbed out, hands on their gun holsters.

Brian paused and looked at me. “Don’t interfere, Maggie.”

“You can’t drag them out of bed,” I protested.

“Nobody’s dragging anyone anywhere,” Lawrence Griswald announced, stepping out onto the porch. He held up his palm toward me in the universal sign to stop.

I grudgingly did.

He looked to his nephew. “What’s going on?”

Brian frowned and stood a little straighter. “This is official police business.”

His uncle nodded his understanding.

“I’m bringing Loretta and Armani in for questioning,” Brian explained.

“For what?” I demanded to know.

Brian turned slowly to face me again. He glared, making it clear he didn’t appreciate that I was interfering with him doing his job. “The murder of Donna Serfit.”

“Who’s that?” Griswald asked.

“The woman Loretta threatened to kill yesterday,” Brian explained.

“She’s dead?” I gasped.

“That is why they’d be investigating her murder,” God pointed out sarcastically from my shoulder.

Instead of responding to me, Brian turned back to face his uncle. “I need them both.”

“Don’t let them in!” I shouted at the elder Griswald. Then, I added for good measure, “He’s not an owner of the property so he can’t grant access.”

“Have you been taking law school correspondence classes?” Brian snapped at me.

“Everyone needs to calm down,” his uncle urged.

“What’s going on?” Aunt Susan demanded, practically shoving her husband out of the way as she bustled outside. Her flannel robe was cinched firmly around her waist, and she was scowling.

“The police need to speak with Loretta and Armani,” Griswald explained in the kind of measured tone one might use to try to reason with a grizzly bear who wanted to rip someone’s head off.

“Police? Why?” She focused on Brian. “Is this about the shop?”

He shot a nervous look at his uncle. Griswald shrugged back helplessly.

“Tangentially,” Brian replied carefully.

“And you needed back-up in order to do that?” Susan fumed.

“He’s accusing them of murder!” I supplied helpfully.

Susan gasped and clutched her throat.

“Nobody has accused anyone of anything,” Brian corrected. “We just need to talk to them about the death.”

“You think my sister is a murderer?!” Susan screamed at him.

He blinked, taken aback. “I didn’t say⁠—”

“Murderer! Murderer!” one of the falcons shrieked from the sky.

“Kill! Kill!” the other approved.

I looked up to find them circling us from above. Glancing around, I realized that almost all the pets were ringed around the standoff, watching the humans act like animals.

“Everyone needs to calm down,” Griswald repeated. “Brian is here to do his job. I’m sure Loretta and Armani will be happy to cooperate.”

Brian raised his chin and met his uncle’s gaze squarely. “Then bring them out.”

“Don’t you move,” Susan warned her husband through gritted teeth.

He looked from one to the other, clearly trapped.

I felt a surge of sympathy for the man. To relieve some of the pressure on him, I offered, “I’ll go get them.”

He shot me a look of gratitude.

“We’re here!” Aunt Loretta declared as she stepped out onto the porch in a red satin and lacy robe that only covered the bits that were sure to get her arrested for indecent exposure. She must have been in the middle of applying her fake eyelashes, since only one was cloaked beneath what looked like the remains of a black, fuzzy caterpillar. She stared defiantly at the uniformed cops before she settled on Brian.

He gulped audibly.

Armani, dressed in the clothes she’d worn the day before, limped out behind her. She looked exhausted and frightened. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the rude awakening, the presence of the cops, or the run-in with her ex, Trey, the night before.

Brian, making a valiant effort to recover, cleared his throat. “We’d like you to come down to the station to answer some questions.”

“About what?” Loretta asked.

“The death of Donna Serfit.”

Armani gasped her surprise.

Loretta cocked her head. “What happened to her?”

“If you could come down to the station—” Brian began.

“What if they refuse?” Susan asked.

“They don’t want to do that,” Griswald told his wife.

“I’ll go,” Armani said, maneuvering herself around Loretta and making her way to the steps of the porch. “I have nothing to hide.”

“Me neither!” Loretta, not wanting to be left behind, hurried after her.

“Holy….” one of the uniforms muttered.

I wasn’t sure if he was voicing awe or disgust.

“Maybe you want to change, first, Loretta?” Brian suggested weakly as the shiny fabric of the robe slipped with her motion.

“You can’t leave here looking like a trollop!” Susan agreed. “Go make yourself decent.”

Loretta looked at me expectantly. I don’t know why. I wasn’t one of the people telling her what to do. It wasn’t fair that I was the one she turned to.

“What do you think, Maggie?” Loretta asked.

I felt the weight of everyone watching me.

I imagined this is what those people who defuse bombs feel like, that anything, even the slightest wrong move, could result in getting blown to bits. I didn’t dare breathe. I froze.

I felt a hand on my shoulder that the lizard wasn’t balancing on. I wasn’t sure if it was meant as a nudge or reassurance.

“Well?” Loretta asked impatiently.

“You might want to freshen up— just in case they want to take your mug shot,” Nat Hunting suggested in a pleasant tone.

Loretta clasped her hands in front of her chest. “You’re so right! I don’t want to be immortalized not looking my best.” She spun around and rushed back into the house.

“A brilliant response,” God decided, sounding like he was in awe.

I let out a shaky sigh of relief. I glanced over my shoulder and whispered, “Thank you.”

Nat nodded.

“We’ll get you an attorney,” Aunt Susan yelled. “Don’t say anything. You have the right to remain silent!”

I turned back to see Armani being seated in the rear of one of the patrol cars.

“You’d think the spirits would have warned her this was going to happen,” God sniped.

“Shut up,” I muttered, noting how my friend was hanging her head, looking defeated.

While the detective conferred with the officers, Susan and Griswald appeared to be having a tense discussion.

The animals began to disperse. Billy climbed back into the paddock. Rowdy led the peacock away. Alejandro trotted off to resume his patrol of the woods.

At least things had calmed down a bit.

Until the mobster pulled up.

12

In Delveccio’s defense, he was just there to drop his grandson off at school with my nieces. But the uniformed police officers didn’t know that and the arrival of the black SUV with the tinted windows put them on edge. After all, they were there to transport not one, but two, murder suspects.

One cop slammed the door of his cruiser shut, locking Armani inside.

Another yelled, “Detective!” and pointed at Delveccio’s approaching vehicle like it was an incoming missile.

A third rested his hand on the butt of his gun, like he was expecting to battle to the death.

And that was all before they knew it was a bona fide mob boss arriving on the scene. I knew the situation could get very dangerous, very fast. I had to do something. Quickly.

“There’s a kid in there!” I shouted angrily. “Just back off. Don’t you dare scare the boy.”

I jogged toward the vehicle as it rolled to a stop, putting myself between it and the on-edge cops.

“It’s okay,” Brian Griswald told the men who’d accompanied him. “Nothing to worry about. Let her deal with this.”

I looked over my shoulder as the cops slowly backed off their aggressive stances. For the moment, it appeared an escalation had been averted. I pasted on a wide grin and reached for the rear door handle of the vehicle. It was locked.

After a long moment, like there’d been some hesitation as to whether opening it was a good idea, there was a barely audible click and the back door of the SUV swung out.

“Good morning,” I greeted with false cheer.

Delveccio, the mob boss, shot me an enquiring look.

“It’s okay,” I assured him. “They’re just here for Loretta and Armani.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Huh?”

I shook my head, almost imperceptibly. This wasn’t the time or place to discuss the possible involvement of my aunt and friend in the murder of the woman who’d been protesting their business. I looked past Delveccio and smiled at the little wide-eyed boy sitting beside him. “Good morning, Dominic.”

He grinned back. “Morning, Maggie.”

Not for the first time, I was amazed at how both he and Katie had recovered from the respective comas they’d been in. He was a happy, normal kid.

“The girls are already in the classroom,” I told him, and held out my arms. He clambered across his grandfather’s lap and threw himself at me. I hugged him tight.

Delveccio grabbed my wrist and stared deep into my eyes. I knew without him asking that he needed me to vouch for his grandson’s safety.

“It’s okay,” I promised.

He studied me for a long moment before releasing me.

“Come on, kiddo.” I twirled him in a circle and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “They’re waiting for you. Go!” I put him down on the ground and he raced toward the barn without so much as a backward glance.

Delveccio waited until the boy was out of sight before he turned his attention to me. “What’s going on?”

“I’ll explain later,” I promised. “But you should get out of here.”

He ducked his chin to signal his understanding.

“In a slow, unbothered manner,” I stressed. “I’ll be in touch.”

“I got a lunch date. Swing by my place around 2:30,” he ordered.

I nodded, stepped back, and closed the SUV’s door. It quickly rolled away.

Surveying the area, I realized the police car with Armani in the rear seat was about to do the same thing. I sprinted over, putting myself in the driver’s path, needing to reassure my friend.

Scowling, the driver tooted his horn, indicating I should move. His partner used both hands to make a shooing motion at me. I held my ground.

“Armani!” I shouted, hoping she could hear me.

She didn’t raise her head.

“Armani, look at me!”

She slowly did, looking more like a beaten dog caught in a rainstorm than my usually vivacious friend.

“I’ll figure this out,” I promised her. “I’ll fix it.”

The car inched forward, getting dangerously close.

“You’re going to either get us run over or get yourself charged with impeding an investigation,” God warned from my shoulder. “You should move.”

Knowing he was right, I stepped aside and watched as the cops drove my friend away.

Looking around, I realized Aunt Susan had disappeared and that Griswald and his nephew were deep in conversation. I stalked toward them, ready to give the so-called detective a piece of my mind for even thinking that my aunt or friend could be murder suspects.

“Easy, Lee,” Nat warned, hooking my elbow and halting me in my tracks. “Let Griswald handle this.”

I shook hard, trying to break loose of his grip, but he held on. Tall and muscled, he had the physical advantage in this little power struggle. I glared up at him, making it clear that I had the upper hand in terms of red-hot fury.

A lesser man might have been cowed, but while Nat flinched a little at my expression, he didn’t let go of my arm. “He’s got the inside track,” he reasoned in a low voice so as not to be overheard. “His nephew is investigating and he’s former law enforcement. He’s got a lot better chance of getting the inside scoop if you don’t go over there like a raging bull in the proverbial China shop and mess things up for him.”

“He makes good points,” God said from my shoulder.

“Just take a breath,” Nat urged. “Everyone knows you’d do anything for your family.”

“Excellent advice,” the lizard concurred.

I forced myself to take a couple of controlled deep breaths.

The corners of Nat’s mouth lifted, not in a smile, but in a grim acknowledgement of my effort. He let his hand fall from my arm, releasing me.

“Maggie!” a voice whispered sharply.

I turned to find Marlene barreling toward me.

“I’ve got to get to work!” Her tone was strident, almost accusing.

“Okay. I’m not stopping you.”

Her gaze darted furtively from the detective to the remaining patrol car. “But will they?”

“I don’t think so. Unless there’s some reason you’d be a suspect in a murder.”

“Of course not!” She shook her head. “Do you think they’ll let me go?”

“That’s not up to me. Ask Brian.”

She nervously chewed on her lower lip.

“Detective Griswald!” I shouted.

He looked over, clearly confused that I hadn’t used his first name. “Can my sister go to work or are we being detained?”

“She can go,” he shouted back.

“Thanks!” I turned back to Marlene. “See? That was easy.”

She could have said thanks, but instead she muttered, “Know-it-all,” under her breath as she stalked toward the house.

“You look like you need more coffee,” Nat murmured sympathetically.

I wasn’t sure there was enough caffeine in existence to make the day any better. And it was only going to get worse.

13

“I’m not sure this is the best use of your time,” God mused.

The lizard wasn’t wrong. Sitting in my car, watching a woman sipping coffee and throwing fast food French fries to a flock of pigeons felt like a massive waste of time. I could have been doing something more productive, but Griswald had insisted that I took the first shift of tailing Marilyn Redding since he had to accompany his wife to the police station while she advocated for the release of her sister and my friend.

I’d agreed to do the job simply because I didn’t think me milling around with a bunch of cops was the smartest idea. Now, I was starting to think that I might die of boredom. Considering that Marilyn Redding was a rich woman, I’d expected her to do mildly interesting things in fancy places. Instead, I’d followed her to the library, where she was, apparently, a volunteer who regularly read to the children’s story group. While it was sweet, listening to stories about Hanna the Helpful Hippopotamus wasn’t exactly an exhilarating way to spend a few hours. Plus, God had felt the need to point out how hippos aren’t actually helpful, but deadly killers, every time the fictional Hanna performed a good deed. My head was pounding by the time Story Hour was over.

The only useful thing I accomplished while there was that I’d texted crime reporter Jack Stern that his on-and-off girlfriend, Armani, had been brought to the station for questioning. I hoped he would use the information like a boyfriend and not a reporter. I hoped she wouldn’t hate me for telling him.

After the library, Marilyn had gone to a coffee shop and gotten herself a drink. Needing the caffeine to combat my headache, I’d followed her inside and ordered a drink for myself. When she’d headed to a burger joint, I worried she’d recognized me from the library and was trying to give me the slip, but then she’d bought the fries and headed to the parking lot of a local park.

“Do you think they did it?” God asked from his vantage point on the dashboard.

I sipped from my cup. “Who did what?”

“Do you think Armani and Loretta killed Dead Donna?”

“Of course not!”

“I’m not sure either is capable of doing it on their own,” he commented. “I think they’d have to pair up.”

“They didn’t kill her, not individually, not together, not at all.”

“I don’t think Brian would have questioned them for no reason,” he argued.

I sighed. “It was common knowledge that they were enemies and Loretta threatened to kill her in front of witnesses. Of course he had to question them.”

“Well, why not just question them? Why haul them off in the back of squad cars like they were common criminals?”

I squinted at him. “That’s exactly what Aunt Susan said.”

“I know. It was a legitimate question that bears repeating.”

I frowned. “Maybe because they’re family, he wanted to make a show of them not getting any preferential treatment.”

“Maybe—”

“She’s on the move,” I interrupted. I slumped down in my seat until I was barely able to see over the steering wheel, hoping the other woman wouldn’t notice me a few rows over as she returned to her car.

I held my breath when she suddenly pivoted toward me.

“You’ve been made!” God warned.

It took a moment to realize she wasn’t heading toward my car, but to the trash disposal cans a row over. I let out a shaky sigh of relief.

“She reads to kids and isn’t a litterbug.” The lizard, who’d been tracking her progress out the windshield, looked back at me. “So far, she looks less like a cheating spouse and more like an upstanding citizen.”

“So far,” I murmured.

We watched as Marilyn returned to her car and pulled out of the parking spot.

I sat up, pulled on my seat belt and turned on the engine of my vehicle. “Can I ask you a question?”

The lizard turned to give me his full attention.

I started following the subject of the tail. “What do you think Templeton was doing?”

“Do you think he killed Dead Donna?” God gasped in horror.

“Of course not.”

“Then why ask?”

I followed as Marilyn, a couple of cars in front of me, made a right. “I meant, what do you think he was doing when Brian showed up to haul off Loretta? Templeton was nowhere to be seen.”

“I hadn’t noticed.”

“To be honest, neither did I, in the moment, but now…It seems strange, doesn’t it?”

“It does.”

“Almost suspicious?”

The lizard considered the question while we followed Marilyn into another parking lot. I hung pretty far back since the lot was mostly empty and I didn’t want to attract her attention.

“Maybe Templeton really did kill Dead Donna!” God concluded.

“He’s not a killer.”

“No doubt people would say the same about you,” he pointed out.

I shrugged, watching Marilyn Redding get out of her car and walk into an arcade. “What do you think she’s doing in there?”

“Handing out quarters to disadvantaged youth?”

I eased my car slightly closer. “Do you think I should follow her inside?”

“Do you want her to notice you? You already went into the library and coffee shop. Are you trying to get caught?”

“I didn’t go into the food place,” I pointed out defensively. “And those grilling burgers smelled amazing.”

“It’s too empty,” God decided. “You’ll stand out.”

I knew he was right, but I didn’t want to let Griswald down. “She could be meeting him in there.”

“Let’s hope he or she isn’t underage,” the lizard muttered. “It’s not exactly a romantic spot.”

A black SUV with tinted windows pulled up near the entrance to the arcade.

Instinctively, I dropped down in my seat, trying to remain hidden.

I sucked in a sharp breath when I saw who got out of the vehicle and walked inside the arcade.

“Is that…?” God sounded as surprised as I felt.

“Yes.” I gulped nervously. A balloon of panic filled my belly, making it hard to breathe. What had I gotten myself into? There was no way this could turn out well. I was in deep trouble.

“What’s Delveccio doing here?”

“I don’t know,” I muttered. “I don’t want to know.”

“Then get out of here,” the lizard urged. “The last thing you need is for one of his henchmen to see you.”

“He doesn’t have henchmen,” I corrected as I gingerly slid the car into gear and began to drive away.

“Henchmen. Henchpeople. Operatives. Mobsters. Whatever you call them, if Delveccio finds out you were spying on him, you could end up feeding the fishes.”

“You’re being overly dramatic,” I told him. “I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for why he’s here.”

“Yeah, he has a love for dried out pizza and preheated nachos,” the lizard drawled.

“Or they have Skee ball,” I said, allowing hope to trickle in. “We know how much he loves that game.”

“And she just happens to be here?” God mocked.

“Maybe,” I said defensively. “We did just watch her feed pigeons. She’s a woman with unusual tastes.”

“What are you going to report to Griswald?”

“Nothing,” I vowed. “I’m going to figure this out before I tell anyone anything.”

It seemed like the safest course of action. What could go wrong?

14

Deciding that hanging out in the vicinity of the arcade where any of Delveccio’s “staff” might spot me wasn’t the wisest choice, I decided to use my time productively. I headed over to The Corset to see if I could discover anything about Donna’s death.

There was no scrum of protestors, and I was relieved there was no yellow crime scene tape strung across the entrance of the lingerie shop. That had to mean the body hadn’t been discovered there. That, at least, was a small win.

As I walked to the store’s entrance, I glanced down at the phone that Orson Redding had shared to track his wife’s whereabouts and noted that she was still at the arcade. My stomach churned nervously. Griswald had gotten me into a situation that had all kinds of potential that could go wrong.

The sickeningly sweet aroma of Love Goo punched me in the nose as I stepped inside. I was already queasy, and the odor made me wretch.

“Did you just throw up in your mouth a little?” God asked in horror.

“No,” I gasped. “It’s just that smell…”

“Wretched stench,” God moaned, and then dove from my shoulder into my bra.

“Be right there!” a familiar voice called from the back room.

“It’s just me!” I shouted back.

I looked around. Order had been fully restored. Racks of lingerie and “passion aids” were neatly arranged. The mannequins in their outrageous outfits flaunted their wares to the public. Nothing appeared to be out of place. It was like it had never been vandalized.

“Everything okay?” Templeton asked, emerging from the storeroom. “Is Loretta…?”

I squinted at the bruise on his cheek. “What happened?”

Instinctively, he covered the mark with the palm of his hand. “It’s nothing. Getting klutzy in my old age and collided with a hard object.” He winced awkwardly and then changed the subject. “You’re sure Loretta is okay?”

I shrugged. “I haven’t heard any different. Have you?”

He shook his head. “I’m surprised to see you here. I know it’s not your favorite spot. I would have thought you’d reached your quarterly limit after all that clean-up time.”

“I’m surprised to see you,” I confessed.

He shrugged. “I figured that with both Loretta and Armani being detained, someone had to keep the home fires burning and the cash register humming.”

“Burning this place to the ground and destroying the cloying stench might be an idea,” God opined from my bra. “I’m not usually an advocate for arson, but in this case, I think an exception could be made. Light it up! Burn it to the ground!”

Templeton’s eyebrows raised. He could hear the lizard’s squeaking, even if he didn’t understand the fiery diatribe.

“He’s still agitated from the morning’s excitement,” I told the man standing a few feet away. I studied him intently, looking for a reaction. I didn’t see anything except disbelief in his eyes. “Speaking of which, where were you this morning?”

“You saw me this morning,” he reminded me, using the same gentle tone he normally reserves for talking to my mother, who resides in a nuthouse. “I made coffee cake. Don’t you remember?”

“I meant, where were you during the excitement?” My tone was sharp, accusatory. “Where were you when they hauled your beloved off to hang a murder rap on her?”

“Mike would like the ‘hang a murder rap’ bit,” God approved. “The rest of it seems like a bit much.”

Meanwhile, Templeton took a step back, caught off-guard by the venom in my tone. “What’s going on, Maggie?”

“Where were you? Everyone else was there, supporting Aunt Loretta and Armani, but you were nowhere in sight.”

He blinked and a pained expression crossed his face.

I felt a twinge of guilt, realizing my accusation had hurt him.

“You think I let Loretta down?” his voice was strained. “That I wasn’t helping?”

I shrugged. “I know I didn’t see you.”

He shook his idea. “You have no idea. Absolutely no idea.”

Before I could ask what that was supposed to mean, a trio of women burst into the store, interrupting us.

“We’re looking for Love Goo,” one announced breathlessly.

Templeton smiled at her and pointed to a display. “It’s right there.”

“Yay!” one shrieked. “Let’s get some for everyone.”

“It’s going to spread,” God groaned. “Like the measles.”

“You should go,” Templeton told me pointedly, his expression hard.

I hesitated, realizing I’d upset him. I didn’t want to leave things unsettled between us. After all, he’d been an ally in the past. “I just need to understand⁠—"

“Now,” he ground out, jerking his thumb toward the exit.

Realizing I’d angered him, I nodded and backed out of the store.

“Fresh polluted air!” God gasped.

I stood, watching Templeton through the glass as he moved toward the customers, smiling and full of charm.

“That was weird,” God remarked as he scrambled up my bra strap to my shoulder.

“He’s hiding something,” I declared. “He’s definitely acting weird.”

“I meant, you were weird. Why were you so hard on him? That’s Templeton you were talking to, the calmest most dependable member of your human family.”

“I wasn’t hard on him. He was being evasive.” I heard my voice crack with defensiveness.

“The two aren’t mutually exclusive,” the lizard pointed out. “Even if he was elusive, you didn’t need to be so hard on him.”

“Whose side are you on?” I muttered. “And you dove into my bra before you could see the bruise.”

“What bruise?”

“The bruise on his cheek. Like someone had hit him.”

“Someone like Dead Donna?” the lizard whispered.

“It might explain why he didn’t go out where the police detective could see him.”

“Templeton wouldn’t…” God protested. “He’s one of the good guys. Maybe slightly naughtily criminal, but nothing hardcore like murder.”

“There’s a first time for everything,” I pointed out.

“You would know.”

“Look, I don’t want to believe it either but—” The phone Redding provided beeped, signaling Marilyn was on the move.

I glanced at the time and groaned. I couldn’t follow her and also make my appointment time with Delveccio. Deciding it was better to keep the mobster happy than Griswald or the scummy rich dude, I decided to keep the appointment.

I’d already started my car when I saw the piece of yellow paper tucked beneath my windshield wiper. I considered turning them on and letting it blow away.

“You’re not going to litter, are you?” God asked from his perch on the dashboard, as though he’d read my thought.

“There should be a special hell for people who leave flyers on cars,” I muttered, glaring at the yellow sheet.

“Hell is reserved for telemarketers. I think the people who leave flyers in unwanted places only get stuck in purgatory.”

Chuckling, I climbed out of the car and snatched up the offensive piece of paper. I should have crumpled it into a ball and never even bothered to look at it, but I didn’t. I read it and, when I did, my blood ran cold.

I leaned weakly against the car and visually swept the parking lot, searching for whoever had left it. Nobody caught my attention.

I sank back into the driver’s seat, trembling.

“What’s wrong?” God asked, alarmed.

I held up the paper that shook like it was being buffeted by the wind.

“Maggie?”

“It’s not a flyer,” I managed to choke out. “It’s a note. To me.”

15

THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT

Guilt soured my stomach as I stared at the message scrawled in black marker across the yellow sheet of paper. “What’s all my fault?” I murmured, unnerved.

“You don’t even know that it’s directed at you,” God argued.

“It was on my car,” I reminded him.

“It could have been left on anyone’s car. It’s very general content.” The lizard was pacing the length of the dashboard, and his back-and-forth was starting to make me dizzy.

“But—”

“It doesn’t have your name on it, not even an initial,” God continued. “It could just be a prank pulled by a bored teenager who wants to see people freak out.”

I looked around the parking lot again. “I don’t see anything left on anyone else’s car.”

“Of course not,” he argued. “You feel singled out. You think it was intended for you. It’s the sheer randomness that would make it successful.”

His take on it was logical, but it felt incorrect.

“You need to get to Delveccio’s,” he reminded me.

Knowing he was right, I placed the paper, writing-side-down, on the passenger seat and started to drive toward the home of the mob boss.

“So, the boss and Marilyn Redding,” the lizard began, in a blatant attempt to distract me after I’d driven in silence for quite a while. “That’s a strange pairing.”

Even though I wasn’t in the mood to play along, I forced myself to. “It is.”

“Makes me curious as to who Griswald owes a favor to,” God said.

I glanced at him. He was stroking the bottom of his chin with one of his tiny feet, deep in thought.

“You think he knows?” I asked.

“Griswald? No. He’d never have pulled you in if he did.”

“I meant the favor asker,” I clarified.

“Might. Or they might just owe Redding a favor.”

“So, they’re using Griswald?”

“That’s been obvious from the start. Otherwise, he’d have never agreed to the job.”

“And now, Delveccio’s somehow involved,” I muttered unhappily.

“This mess could blow up in your face,” God warned. “You need to stay on your toes for this conversation.”

I turned into the mobster’s driveway and almost turned around and sped away. My headache had returned, my stomach was growling, and I was exhausted from the lack of sleep the night before. I was not at the top of my game.

I parked the car, scooped the lizard off the dash and dumped him down my shirt, and took a deep breath. I climbed slowly out and eyed the front door of the house warily.

It swung open and a familiar face winked at me. “Hey, Mags.”

“What’s he doing here?” God asked incredulously.

I smiled back at Patrick Mulligan. He might be a police detective, but he was also on Delveccio’s payroll, so while it was unexpected, it wasn’t as odd as the lizard made it seem that he was there.

Patrick motioned for me to join him inside.

I climbed the steps slowly, trying to collect myself. It had been a day with a lot of events that had thrown me off-kilter and I needed to keep my head on straight.

I could tell from the way his green gaze darkened slightly that Patrick had noted I wasn’t at my best, but he had the discretion to keep the observation to himself. All he said was, “He’s in the kitchen.”

We moved in tandem toward the room, greeted by the wafting scent of roasting garlic.

Delveccio wore an apron stained with tomato splatters that billowed over his paunchy gut. He stood at the stove, stirring a pot with a wooden spoon. Without looking up as we entered, he said, “Loretta’s a lunatic. Always has been.”

Considering he’d carried a torch for my mother, Loretta’s sister, who was literally certified crazy, I found his proclamation amusing.

He looked at me. “Do you think she did it?”

“I’m assuming we’re talking about the death of the shop owner?” I asked carefully.

“That’s what he’s for.” The mobster pointed at Mulligan, the tip of the spoon dripping red sauce. “To fill me in on the details. I want your opinion.”

“I don’t think she did,” I told him without hesitation.

“And the cripple wouldn’t have been able?” Delveccio asked Patrick.

I winced and had to bite my tongue to keep from telling him not to call Armani that.

“Her disability would have made it impossible,” Patrick confirmed.

Delveccio turned his attention to me, his gaze laser focused. “Did you do it?”

I blinked, caught off-guard by the question.

“Better for everyone if you don’t lie about it,” the mobster warned.

“I didn’t kill her.”

He stared at me for a beat longer, then, shrugging, turned away. “Any idea who did?”

An image of Templeton’s bruised cheek flashed in front of me. “None,” I lied.

“Mulligan’s on it,” Delveccio said. “He’ll bring you up to speed.”

I glanced at the redhead beside me. He inclined his head and led me out of the kitchen.

As we walked out of the house, I wondered why I’d had to make the trip over if I was going to be dismissed within minutes. It was obvious that Patrick had filled Delveccio in on the details of the investigation. Had he really needed me to vouch for Loretta?

“You okay?” Patrick asked as we stepped outside.

Knowing the place was monitored by cameras, I kept my answer short and honest. “I’m starving.”

“Let’s go get something to eat, then. You can follow me.”

A minute later, I was following his vehicle-du-jour, a white SUV, away from the mobster’s place. As I drove, I glanced at the phone Redding had provided and saw that, according to the tracking device, Marilyn had gone home, so I wasn’t technically slacking by indulging in some sustenance.

I followed Patrick through a residential neighborhood. He led me down the driveway of a house with a two-car garage. He pulled into one spot, hopped out of the SUV, and indicated I should pull in alongside him.

“This is not what I was expecting,” I muttered as I parked where indicated.

As I got out of my car, the garage doors began to close. “What is this place?”

“Safe house,” Patrick answered. “Kitchen is stocked.”

I wondered if it was a police safe house, one used by the mob, or if he owned it himself, but I knew better than to ask.

He led the way inside, flipping on lights as he went.

The kitchen featured a card table and four folding chairs. Whatever this place was, there wasn’t a budget for much in the way of furnishings.

“Eggs okay?” Patrick asked.

“Great.”

“Coffee?”

“Please.”

He motioned toward the chairs. “Sit. I’ve got this.”

I sank into one of the seats, leaned back and closed my eyes. I listened to him moving around the room, busy with preparations.

The drip of the coffeemaker had almost finished before he spoke again.

“You look beat,” Patrick remarked.

“It was a long night.”

“Because of the Pito guy?”

I opened my eyes, glancing at him with surprise.

“I saw the request for extra patrols in the area,” he explained, cracking an egg into a bowl.

“It had everyone on edge,” I murmured.

He held my gaze. “Was that the only thing that had you up last night?”

I stared at him, unsure of what he was asking.

“It’s cool if you killed her,” he said finally, cracking another egg.

I shook my head, closed my eyes again and leaned back. “If I had, I wouldn’t have framed my aunt and friend.”

He chuckled. “That’s what I figured.”

“And Loretta and Armani didn’t do it, either,” I stressed.

“I believe you.”

“If only Brian did,” I muttered bitterly.

“He doesn’t,” Patrick assured me.

“You weren’t there when he hauled them off for questioning in a couple of squad cars,” I told him, clenching my fists at the memory.

“He was looking out for them,” Patrick said calmly.

I scoffed.

“Hurwitzer, the detective who caught the Donna Serfit case, wanted to question them at The Corset,” Patrick revealed.

I opened my eyes and sat forward, staring at him.

“Brian called in some favors to have them picked up at the house instead, thinking it was less likely that someone would snap a picture and post it online.”

“Oh,” I murmured.

“And he brought two cars with him so that Hurwitzer can’t claim they had a chance to get their story straight. And Brian didn’t ride with either so that nobody could say that he coached them.”

“Oh no,” I muttered.

“I don’t even know what you did, but I’m guessing you owe him an apology. All he was doing was looking out for them.”

The sizzle of butter hitting a hot pan filled the room.

I dropped my head into my hands. I’d thought the worst of Brian when he’d been doing his best to help them.

“Have some coffee, Mags,” Patrick urged, putting a mug down beside me. “You’ll feel better.”

I sipped the steaming brew while I watched him work. He alternated between scrambling eggs and making toast.

I debated whether to tell him about the THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT note, but decided not to. In hindsight, that was a mistake.

16

By the time I got home, everyone else was sitting around the dinner table. We even had a couple of guests. Brian Griswald sat beside his uncle and Jack Stern was next to Armani.

“You’re late, Margaret,” Susan announced as I walked through the front door. “We’re in the dining room.”

“She’s helping me with a job,” her husband reminded her. “Give her a break.”

“Can I fill you a plate?” Templeton, sitting on the other side of Brian, offered as I walked in.

I noted that the bruise on his cheek was darker. “No thanks, I ate.” I slid into the only empty seat available, which was between the reporter and Lorraine Lassalan, the girls’ teacher.

I hung my head as I sat across from two men I should have trusted but had treated poorly that day. I couldn’t make eye contact with Templeton or Brian.

Susan clucked at me disapprovingly. I stared down at my empty plate, feeling like I was about five years old.

An uncomfortable hush pressed down on the room. It felt hard to breathe. I regretted coming home.

“We learned to shoot slingshots today,” Katie announced, breaking the silence.

“Heavens no!” Aunt Susan exclaimed with dismay.

“We learned that slingshots work off of stored elastic energy, potential energy,” Alicia elaborated.

“And we learned to shoot them,” Katie stressed. “I’m a good shot.”

Most of us around the table chuckled.

“But Alicia is better than me,” she revealed proudly.

Most of us applauded softly.

“Miss Lassalan!” Susan disapproved. “How dare you bring that…that act of violence into⁠—”

“She didn’t teach them,” her sister Leslie interrupted, defending her better half. “Nat Hunting did. Lorraine just turned it into a science lesson.” It was unusual for her to oppose her somewhat overbearing older sister, and the whole room fell silent.

Susan twisted her napkin and said weakly, “He shouldn’t have done that. They could take somebody’s eye out. It’s not safe.”

“Oh, he taught us all the safety rules, first,” Katie said, puffing up with self-importance.

“He wouldn’t teach us until we memorized them,” Alicia confirmed.

“And what are they?” Marlene asked.

“One. Never. Ever. Aim your slingshot at another person,” the girls recited in unison.

“Good rule,” Griswald chuckled.

“Two,” my nieces continued. “Never. Ever. Aim your slingshot at any living creature.”

Herschel nodded his approval.

The girls both held up three fingers. “Three. Never. Ever. Shoot at anything that can break. No windows. No cars. No nests.”

“Guess there’s not much to shoot at,” Marlene mused.

“You can shoot at targets,” Katie told her. “Cans, or rocks or sticks.”

“As long as there’s nothing behind them that can get hurt or broken,” Alicia reminded her.

Katie nodded her agreement.

“Hunting was only trying to help keep the kids entertained,” Lorraine Lassalan offered. “Everyone else was distracted by…other things.”

Her meaning hung in the air.

“We’ll have to thank him the next time we see him,” Susan said stiffly. Then, she bowed her head toward the teacher. “And thank you for turning it into a science lesson.”

“Hurray for science!” Aunt Leslie cheered.

“Hurray for science!” Katie and Alicia shouted.

Jack leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Never a dull moment in this place.”

I nodded. The man was an expert at stating facts.

“Your night for clean-up duty, Margaret,” Aunt Susan announced when everyone was done eating.

I nodded my understanding and waited while everyone scattered like dandelion seeds on the wind. Only Griswald stayed behind.

I considered telling him about the note that had been left on my windshield. Maybe he could help me make sense of it.

“I don’t suppose you got the evidence Redding is looking for?” he asked.

I stood and started gathering dirty dishes. “I followed her to the library, where she volunteers reading stories to little kids, then she got some lunch and fed half of it to the pigeons, then she went to an arcade and then back home.” I methodically scraped food scraps onto a plate, taking care to keep my voice even. It’s not like I was actually lying.

It was the truth. Or, at least, a version of it. I just left out the part that involved Delveccio.

“I figured I would have heard from you if you’d gotten something good,” Griswald grumbled, and then walked out.

Shaking my head, I muttered, “You’re welcome for my help.”

God climbed onto my shoulder as I carried a stack of dishes into the kitchen and put them by the sink. I leaned against the counter and let out a heavy sigh.

“You okay, Sugar?” Piss meowed, winding her way between my ankles.

“Just tired,” I told her, bending to scratch the spot behind her good ear. “How was your day?”

She licked her paw instead of answering.

“Are you hungry? Do you want some cream?” I offered.

“Templeton already took care of it. I’ve got to go to organize the night patrols.”

“I’m going with you!” Without warning, the lizard leapt from my shoulder to the cat.

She arched her back and I thought she was going to shake him off, not that I would have blamed her, but then she hissed, “A little warning would have been nice!”

“My apologies,” the lizard replied dryly. “Can we get on to the business of protecting the family now?”

She raced off, causing him to squeak with alarm as he tried to hang on.

Chuckling, I began to rinse the plates so that I could put them in the dishwasher. Hearing the tinkle of glass behind me, I turned to see Jack Stern balancing a load of drinking glasses between his hands.

After he’d carefully put them down, he said, “Didn’t seem fair that you got stuck with cleaning up when you didn’t even eat.”

I shrugged. I knew Aunt Susan had saddled me with the job as a punishment, but kept that to myself.

“Thanks for the text,” he said gruffly, his voice even deeper and more gravelly than usual, as though he was forcing the words out.

I started loading the dishwasher. “Figured you’d want to know.”

“Personally, or professionally?”

I shrugged. “That’s up to you.” I glanced up at him. “Can I ask you a professional question?”

He nodded.

“Do the cops have anything on them?” I asked before putting a glass on the top rack.

“Well, they were publicly feuding with the woman and Loretta did threaten to kill her…in front of Detective Griswald, no less.”

I winced.

“But they’ve got nothing to hang on them,” he hurried to assure me.

I wondered if he could help me with my dilemma about the note left on my car. “Do they have any other suspects?”

“The cops? No.”

I looked up and studied him for a long moment. “But you do.”

He shrugged, but I saw a glint in his eye.

“Who?”

He shook his head.

“I’m not going to scoop you on the story,” I told him with exasperation.

He considered me for a long moment, before admitting, “At this point, I’m just following the money.”

“What money?”

Before he could reply, not that I was sure he’d even have given me an answer, Aunt Leslie and Lorraine came in.

“Daddy needs you out at the barn,” Leslie announced. “He says it’s urgent. We’ll finish cleaning up for you.”

“Thank you,” I murmured.

She made a shooing motion. “What are you waiting for? Go. Go!”

I gave Jack an apologetic shrug and headed outside. While the respite from kitchen duty was welcome, I was worried about why Herschel urgently needed me.

17

You know that unnerving feeling you get when you sense someone is watching you and every cell in your body tenses up, ready to do battle against an unidentified threat? That’s what I had going on as I woke up with a start. I looked around wildly, trying to find my voyeur.

I sat up slowly, slightly confused because I was not in my bed, but in the barn. My right foot tingled painfully, like the nerves or blood flow had been compressed.

“Morning, Lee.”

Blinking against the rising sun flooding the barn, it took me a moment to focus on Nat Hunting.

He stood in the doorway of the barn, watching me. “I brought muffins. They’re still warm.” He strolled in and I realized he was carrying a box. He sat down on the bale of hay beside me. “Did you spend the whole night here?”

“Not the whole night,” I croaked. Even as sleepy as I was, I remembered that Herschel had summoned me out to the barn to do the first shift of the nightly safety patrol with him and the animals. Griswald and Templeton had done the second shift, but I’d been too tired to even drag myself inside the house and to my bed, so I’d just curled up in the barn and slept on the hay.

As I woke up a bit more, I remembered that things were awkward with Nat. I looked away from him, trying to figure out if the pins-and-needles in my foot would prevent me from making an effective escape.

Nat held out his travel mug to me. “I’ll share my coffee. You look like you need it more than me.”

“I’m okay,” I told him.

“Uh huh.” His irritation was evident.

I tensed.

An uncomfortable silence settled over us.

I fidgeted uneasily.

“You need to fix things with him,” a soft voice said. Twitch jumped into my lap. “He’s nice. If you’re mean, you’ll chase him away.”

I stroked the small brown bunny. He wasn’t saying anything that God and Piss hadn’t already lectured me about.

But it was sooooo awkward.

“I heard you taught the kids how to use a slingshot,” I murmured. “They had fun.”

Nat hesitated a long moment before offering, “I could teach you.”

“No need. I actually used to be a pretty good shot. Archie taught me.”

“Father-daughter bonding,” Nat approved.

I shook my head sadly. “No. He needed me to break a window at the front of someone’s house to distract the owners while he broke in through the back door to steal something while they were yelling at me.”

“I’m sorry,” Nat muttered sympathetically.

I shrugged and tried to laugh it off. “I have a wide range of life skills.” After a moment, I added, “I know you taught the kids not to break anything or hurt anyone. I appreciate that.”

“Least I could do,” he murmured. “Does this mean we can be friends again, Lee?”

I sighed and hung my head. I took a deep breath and blurted out, “I’m sorry I freaked out at you. I’m sorry I said those things to you.”

“Apology accepted,” he replied easily. “Muffin?”

I punched his shoulder and glared at him. “Don’t do that!”

Twitch jumped off my lap. “This is not the way to fix things,” he told me before hopping away.

Nat blinked and rubbed his arm where I’d hit him. “Don’t do what? Offer you a fresh-baked muffin?”

“Don’t let me off the hook that easily. I was horrible to you.”

“People have treated me a lot worse,” he said with a shrug.

“I accused you—I called you—I⁠—.”

“Lee!” he thundered. “Stop!”

I fell silent and leaned back.

He looked me in the eye, and he softened his voice. “You freaked out because you woke up in a strange bed after almost getting yourself killed. Maybe I shouldn’t have taken you to my place after the fire at Knight Fights, but I didn’t know how else to protect you. If I’d taken you to the hospital, or even home, there would have been a lot of questions. Questions you wouldn’t have wanted to answer.”

I nodded, acknowledging he was right.

He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly agitated. “I just meant to leave you on the bed so you could get some rest, but you begged me to stay. I never meant to snooze. I just wanted you to get some sleep, so I stayed. And the next thing I knew, I woke up and you were freaking out.”

I winced at the memory. I’d woken up in Nat’s arms, surrounded by God, DeeDee and Piss. At first, I thought we’d all died in the fire at Knight Fights.

Then, I’d blamed Nat for taking advantage of my weakened state. The memory of the accusations I’d hurled at him made me sick to my stomach. I hung my head, cheeks burning, stomach heaving.

“Breathe, Lee,” Nat urged softly. “The only thing you have to do is breathe.”

I started to cry. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

I raised my face and blinked at him through my tears. “It’s not okay. We’re not okay.”

He twisted himself off his seat and knelt in front of me. He grabbed my hands, stared into my eyes and pledged whole-heartedly, “I promise you that we’re okay.”

Sobbing, I threw myself into his arms.

Scooping me up, he sat down on the bale of hay, cradling me in his lap. I don’t know how long I cried into his shoulder for, but when I’d finally exhausted myself and was only sniffling, he repeated, “We’re okay.”

“Who knew that Maggie Lee was such a drama queen?” Rowdy mused.

I pulled my head from Nat’s shoulder to look at the raccoon, who was watching me through her mask.

“She gets that way when she hasn’t had coffee,” God explained.

I looked past Rowdy and saw that sometime during my crying session, Piss, with God on her back, and DeeDee had given up their posts of guarding the girls and had joined us in the barn.

Piss purred her approval. “I’m glad you fixed things, Sugar.”

DeeDee walked over and began licking the remaining tears from my face.

“You’re loved, Lee,” Nat whispered softly.

18

It was a rare occasion when I was alone in an almost empty house.

Aunt Leslie and the girls were in their classroom, being guarded by the cat and dog. Marlene had gone to work. Herschel had muttered something about fixing a fence. Aunt Susan had insisted on accompanying Loretta and Armani to The Corset, in order to “keep them out of trouble”. Griswald had taken the day’s shift of tailing Marilyn Redding.

I felt like I could hear my footsteps echoing in the hollowness as I made my way to the kitchen. I’d napped and showered after my crying jag and now felt almost human again. All I needed to complete the transformation was another cup of coffee or two.

I had set up a small pot to brew and was waiting beside it when Templeton walked into the kitchen.

We both froze for a moment, startled to encounter each other.

“I thought I was the only one here,” I explained with a nervous laugh.

“Me too,” he admitted.

“You owe him an apology,” God reminded me from my bra.

“I’m making coffee.” I pointed at the machine. “It’s almost done. Would you like a cup?” It wasn’t exactly a mea culpa, but it was the equivalent of an olive branch.

Templeton hesitated and then nodded. “Hungry?”

“No. I ate two of Nat’s muffins earlier.”

“The man can bake.”

After an awkward moment where we watched the dripping coffeemaker, we both blurted simultaneously, “I’m sorry.”

“No,” I insisted forcefully. “I’m sorry. I owe you an apology for how I behaved yesterday. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Everyone’s on edge,” he excused. “Let’s forget about it.”

I shook my head and focused on the bruise on his cheek. “How did that happen?”

“I told you.”

“You lied to me,” I accused.

He looked away.

Frustrated, I busied myself with pouring our coffee. “Did Brian ask you about it?”

He sat down at the kitchen table. “Of course, he did.”

“And what did you tell him?” I asked.

“The same thing I told you.”

“At least you kept your story straight,” I quipped as I put a steaming mug in front of him.

“I’m a semi-professional,” he replied with a wink.

I slid into the seat opposite him. “I don’t believe you killed Donna Serfit.”

“Gee, thanks.” He blew across the top of his mug.

“But I would like to know where you got that bruise,” I insisted.

“Leave it alone, Maggie.”

“Are you in trouble?”

He shook his head.

“I can help,” I offered.

“I appreciate that, but I’m not in trouble.”

“But—” I began.

“He’s protecting someone,” Herschel said, lumbering into the kitchen. “I smell coffee.”

“Is that true?” I asked Templeton. “Who?”

He shook his head. I didn’t know whether that meant he was denying the veracity of my grandfather’s claim or refusing to tell me who he was protecting.

“Who?” I demanded to know.

“Me,” Herschel revealed. “He’s protecting me. I’m the one who gave him that shiner.”

Shocked, I looked from one man to the other. “Why?”

“As a reward for stopping an old man from being an old fool,” my grandfather revealed, his voice heavy with regret.

“What happened?” I asked.

“It was nothing,” Templeton excused. “I think there are still a couple of Hunting’s muffins left.” He moved to stand up.

I grabbed his wrist. “One of you needs to explain to me what’s going on.”

“Leave the poor man be, child,” Herschel told me. “I’ll explain it all.”

He sat down at the table while Templeton rummaged around the kitchen in search of something to eat. I waited, clasping my mug like it was a lifeline.

“I lost my temper when Griswald’s nephew was going to take my baby to the police station, treating her like she was some kind of criminal,” my grandfather explained. “Templeton tried to reason with me, but I wasn’t having it.”

I nodded. Both those things tracked, considering their personalities.

“And then, when I got my gun, he—” Herschel continued.

“Your gun?” I gasped in disbelief. A chill ran down my spine as I imagined what the worst-case scenario could have been.

“I was going to protect Loretta,” he said defensively.

“By taking on the cops,” Templeton muttered angrily. “Like he’d never heard of just hiring a lawyer.”

I frowned at my grandfather. “Are you nuts? You could have gotten people killed! Something could have happened to Loretta, or one of the girls, or anybody.”

“Yeah, that’s what Templeton said when we were wrestling over the rifle,” Herschel admitted. “That’s how he got the black-and-blue, I hit him in the face with it.”

I pushed back from the table, outraged. “You endangered everyone. You hit Templeton? How could you?”

“He didn’t deliberately hit me,” Templeton interjected from where he was peering into the fridge. “We were⁠—"

“Don’t defend him!” I told Templeton furiously.

To my surprise, his answering anger matched mine. He slammed the refrigerator door closed. “It’s none of your business, Maggie. I’ve forgiven him. The matter is over.” He frowned at me defiantly, daring me to argue.

I stared at him for a long moment and then nodded. Then, I glared at my grandfather. “Don’t you think for one moment that I’m going to forgive you for threatening the safety of everyone I love.” I jumped up from the table and stalked out.

With a mixture of fury and the horror of what could have happened burning in my veins, I kept marching. I exited the house and began stomping up the driveway, headed nowhere in particular, just needing to put distance between myself and the man I wanted to kill, at the moment.

“Maybe take a breath,” God suggested gently from my bra.

“Maybe shut up before I feed you to the falcons,” I snapped back.

Hearing me approach like I was a team of Clydesdales, Alejandro trotted up to me. “Is all well, Maggie Lee?” His concern made his Peruvian accent even thicker than usual.

“Not really,” I muttered.

“I am prepared to battle to the death on your behalf,” he reminded me with a formal little bow.

“You can’t fight the past,” the lizard pointed out. “Even the most recent past. All you can do is attempt to change the course of the future.”

Overwhelmed by a feeling of helplessness, I came to an abrupt halt. “And how am I supposed to do that?”

The llama leaned against me, offering his silent support.

“In this case, I’d suggest starting by not giving up. Disconnecting from the problem isn’t going to solve anything.”

“I’m tired,” I admitted. “Why does everything have to be so challenging all of the time?”

“You just feel like that because you’re in the middle of a rough patch,” God assured me. “It’ll pass. Life ebbs and flows. It’s never all good or bad.”

Logically, I knew he was right.

Sometimes, I really hate logic.

I patted the llama’s side and eased myself off him. “I guess I can’t hide out here forever.”

“You are welcome anytime, Maggie Lee.” He bowed slightly and then trotted off to resume his security sweep.

I headed back toward the house, telling the lizard, “I’ll talk to Griswald about taking Herschel’s gun away.”

“That seems extreme.”

“I can’t have him brandishing weapons every time there’s a conflict.”

“True. Why don’t you suggest a gun safe? If he’d had to grab the rifle out of one of those, the extra couple of seconds might have given him enough time to think through the situation and not doing something so rash.”

I kicked a rock ahead of me. “I guess I could try that.”

“Sell it as a safety measure for the kids,” God urged. “He loves them. He’ll want to protect them.”

“Okay.” A sense of relief leeched through me. I paused and raised my face to the sky to enjoy the sun beating down, savoring the moment.

Enjoying my bubble of peace, I almost didn’t answer my cell phone when it buzzed. Seeing that it was Griswald, and realizing he probably needed me to relieve him from tailing Marilyn Redding, I answered grudgingly. “Hello?”

“Maggie?”

I could barely hear them over the blaring of a siren, but the instant I heard those two stress-laden syllables, I knew something was terribly wrong. Holding the phone to my ear, I broke into a full-blown run, sprinting toward the house. “What’s happened?”

19

I was breathless by the time I reached the barn door.

Nat, who’d been sitting on a bale of hay, fiddling with his phone, jumped up, alarmed when he saw me.

I motioned for him to join me outside the barn.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, rushing to my side.

The pig, goat, rabbit and donkey, having sensed my panic, gathered close.

“Susan’s hurt,” I wheezed. “Loretta and Armani are missing.”

Nat wrapped an arm around my shoulders to steady me. “What do you need?”

“I need you to help me get the kids to Delveccio’s place,” I panted.

He looked doubtful. “Really?”

I nodded. “They’ll be safer there than here.”

“I’ll tell them it’s an impromptu field trip,” Nat offered. “Try to make it fun so they don’t get scared.”

“Thank you. I’ll bring Templeton and Herschel up to speed.” I turned toward the house.

“Lee.” He grabbed my arm to stop me. “We’ll get the kids settled and then I’m going with you.”

He let me go and I raced toward the house.

I found Herschel and Templeton and told them the little I knew. Revealing to my grandfather that his oldest daughter was injured and one of his twins was missing was painful. Telling Templeton that the woman he loved had disappeared felt even worse.

Nat had moved fast. By the time I’d ushered the two men outside, the children were excitedly clambering into the back of his truck.

Past them, Lorraine Lassalan was getting Leslie settled into her car.

“You should go to the hospital with Leslie,” I told my grandfather.

“But—” he began to protest.

“No arguments,” Templeton told him firmly. He looped his arm through Herschel’s and half-dragged him toward Lorraine’s vehicle.

“Us too take!” DeeDee barked.

“That’s not a bad idea to have the mutt along,” God said from where he’d taken refuge in my bra. “We might need her help.”

“Me too,” Piss insisted.

Nat looked over at me. “Can you tell the kids that this one time it’s okay if they don’t ride in car seats?” he begged. “Alicia is saying it’s dangerous and the others are getting worried.”

I ran over to his truck and peered in the back. Katie’s eyes gleamed with excitement, Dominic looked uncertain, and Alicia appeared agitated.

“Can you guys all ride on the floor?” I asked in the most cheerful tone I could muster.

“This is a weird adventure,” Katie remarked, sliding onto the floor.

Dominic followed her lead.

Alicia hesitated.

“I promise it’s going to be okay this one time,” I told her.

Her lower lip quivered. “Mommy won’t be mad?”

I shook my head. “Nope.”

She slowly sank onto the floor.

“You guys are great,” I told them. “And you’re going to get a fun surprise and treat!”

Katie clapped with delight.

I closed the door firmly.

“They’re headed to the hospital,” Templeton announced, his voice stretched thin with strain. “I’m going with you.”

I nodded and focused on Nat. “You take Templeton, he can help keep the kids calm. Follow me and drive carefully. You’ve got precious cargo back there.”

Nat nodded and waved the other man into his vehicle.

I raced back to my car with DeeDee, Piss and Rowdy on my heels. “Tell everyone to be on alert,” I yelled to Mike, who was perched on the roof of my car.

“You got it, toots!” He flew off to spread the word.

“Shotgun!” DeeDee panted, claiming the front passenger seat. Piss and Rowdy climbed into the back.

“Where are we going?” the raccoon asked.

“We’re taking the kids to Delveccio’s, and then to The Corset. Now, everyone be quiet while I call the nice mobster.” I started my car, dialed his number and held my breath until he answered.

“I heard,” he said as a greeting.

“I’m bringing the kids to you to keep safe,” I told him as I sped up the driveway. “Two cars. Mine and Nat Hunting’s truck. Kids and Templeton are in the truck.”

“You want me to babysit them, too?”

“Everybody didn’t fit in my car. They’re following right behind me.” I glanced in my mirror for confirmation. Nat’s truck was definitely following.

“We’ll be ready,” the mobster pledged solemnly.

“I promised the kids fun and a treat,” I revealed.

“I can handle it.”

“What have you heard?” I asked worriedly.

“Susan’s at the hospital. Loretta and your friend are gone. Probably snatched.”

“Snatched?”

“Kidnapped,” he clarified. “That’s all I know.”

“We’ll be to you soon,” I told him.

“Don’t speed so much that those kids end up hurt,” he warned. Then, he disconnected the call.

Realizing he was right, I slowed down slightly. There was no point in risking an accident. I squeezed the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white, trying to rein in the fear that was making it hard to breathe.

“Inhale and exhale, Sugar,” Piss urged from the back seat. “In and out.”

“What if this really is all my fault?” I gasped, haunted by the image of the writing on the yellow paper.

“It’s not,” God said definitively.

“It could be.”

“It’s not,” he repeated. “You need to focus on the well-being of the children. When that’s done, we’ll go to The Corset.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Piss meowed.

“Get we’ll back them,” DeeDee promised.

I shook my head, blinking away tears. “You don’t know that. You don’t know what will happen to them or Aunt Susan.” I ended on a hiccupping sob.

“I know you’re not good to anybody if you’re falling apart,” God said harshly.

The truth stung like a slap across the face, but it had its desired effect. I swiped away my tears and forced myself to breathe normally.

By the time we reached Delveccio’s place, I had myself under control. Two guards waved me and Nat in at the bottom of the driveway and then pulled a pair of iron gates closed behind us.

“Stay here and be quiet,” I ordered the animals as I hopped out of my car to meet the kids. I pasted a grin on my face.

Delveccio came up beside me. He shook his head. “You look more like a murderous clown than a reassuring aunt. Let me handle this.” He opened the door and yelled, “Surprise! It’s movie night!”

“It’s the middle of the day,” Alicia pointed out.

The mobster turned his head toward me. “Your niece has your mouth.”

I shrugged apologetically.

“Movie night in the middle of the day is what makes it such a special surprise,” Templeton said from the front seat of the truck. “I bet you’ve never done it before.”

“Nope! Not me!” Katie clambered out of the vehicle. “Is there popcorn?”

“You bet,” Delveccio told her.

“We have a giant machine,” Dominic revealed, climbing out after her.

“I like extra butter,” Alicia announced.

“I like a young lady who knows what she wants,” the mobster said as he helped her out.

“I’ll show you the way. Follow me!” Dominic ran toward the house with the girls chasing after him.

“They’ll be—” Delveccio stopped speaking when he saw Katie turn around and race back.

“You might need this,” she said, and offered me her slingshot.

“Thank you.” I stuck it in my back pocket and bent down to give her a quick impulsive hug. “Stay out of trouble.”

“You too!” She laughed and then ran to join her cousin and friend.

“They’ll be safe here. We’ll do a movie. Make a pizza. Do another movie. Have a sleepover, if necessary.”

A painful lump rose in my throat as I was overwhelmed by his generosity.

“C’mere.” He pulled me in for a hug and whispered in my ear, “You do whatever you need to do to finish this thing, you understand?”

I nodded into his chest.

“The redhead has you covered.” With that, he pushed me away and headed toward the house without a backward glance.

I took a shaky breath and knocked on Nat’s window. After he lowered it, I announced, “I’m going to The Corset.”

“Us too,” he replied calmly. “Should we ride together?”

I shook my head. “I’ve got some of the animals with me.”

If he thought that was odd, he gave no indication. All he said was, “See you there.”

I got back into my car and started the engine.

“Now what?” Rowdy asked curiously.

“Now, we go kick ass!” I told her grimly.

20

This time when I pulled up to The Corset, the entrance was blocked off by fluttering yellow crime scene tape. I grimaced at the image, then squared my shoulders as I climbed out of the car.

The police had cordoned off a huge swath of the parking lot, which meant I was technically parked on the grass. Nat didn’t hesitate to slide in straight behind me. Templeton jumped out and rushed toward the store, eager to find out what had befallen Loretta.

I chased after him. “Templeton, wait!”

He ignored my plea and bulldozed forward.

“You gotta stop there!” A uniformed officer stepped into Templeton’s path, looking ready to tackle him.

“But—” Templeton began to protest, slowing to a stop as he recognized that he wasn’t getting past.

“That’s my aunt’s store,” I explained to the cop. “And this is my aunt’s partner, so we need to get in there.”

“Nobody goes in or out,” the man told us sternly.

“Let them through,” a familiar voice ordered.

I found Detective Patrick Mulligan standing in front of The Corset, motioning for us to join him.

The glowering uniformed cop held up the tape, we ducked beneath it and headed toward my favorite redhead. I looped my arm through Templeton’s and told him, without moving my mouth, “Stay calm. He’s on our side.”

Patrick strode over to us wearing a somber professional expression. “Sorry to see you again under these circumstances,” he formally intoned for the benefit of any of his co-workers within earshot.

I played my part. “What can you tell us, Detective Mulligan?”

“The silent alarm was tripped. When the first officers arrived on site, they discovered Susan Griswald unconscious and obviously injured. They called for an ambulance, requested back-up and secured the scene.”

“Obviously injured?” I asked.

“She appeared to have sustained a blow to the head,” Patrick explained gently.

“Did…was…did anybody else get hurt?” Templeton’s question came out haltingly.

Patrick focused on him. “It’s hard to tell. The place is a mess. If you’re up to it, since you two spend a lot of time here, I was hoping that you could take a look around and tell me if anything jumps out at you.”

Templeton nodded.

Patrick turned to a nearby officer. “Tell them I need the room.”

The other man nodded and hurried into the store.

The detective turned his attention to me. “I understand Armani had an unpleasant run-in with an ex.”

“Yes. A Trey Pito. She seemed afraid of him.”

“She should be,” Patrick revealed. “He’s got a long rap sheet, and from what I’ve heard, an even longer mean streak.”

“Do you think he did this?” Templeton asked.

“We’re looking into every possibility,” Patrick replied.

A line of cops filed out of The Corset, ducking under the crime scene tape that blocked the entrance. They looked like they were playing a macabre game of limbo.

“We’re still waiting for the forensics team to arrive, so try not to touch or move anything,” Patrick instructed.

I half-expected someone to shout out, “How low can you go?”. The cynic in me wondered if the officers had all been inside working or if they’d been gawking at the merchandise.

“Look, don’t touch. If you see something, get my attention,” Patrick reminded us, snapping on a pair of vinyl gloves.

“Should we have those, too?” I asked.

He led us to the doorway as he popped a wintergreen Life Saver into his mouth. “Have you been in the shop in the past week or so?”

I nodded, as did Templeton.

Patrick shook his head. “Then your prints are going to be all over the place.” He lifted the crime scene tape so that we could duck under it, ushering us inside.

I gagged as the cloyingly sweet scent overwhelmed.

“The horrid stench,” God groaned.

I pinched my nose shut as Patrick shot me a look. My murder mentor was probably wondering how I didn’t blink when faced with the blood of those I’d killed but couldn’t tolerate the smell of Love Goo.

“Mint?” he offered.

I nodded, finally understanding why he was so fond of the candy. I silently pledged that if it worked to mask the Love Goo odor, I’d never let Alejandro refer to him as “Minty” again.

Ignoring our exchange, Templeton advanced through the shop, scanning it carefully.

To me, it looked like the chaos from the prior break-in had been taken up a notch or two.

I sucked hard on the mint for a few seconds, trying to figure out what was bothering me, because something definitely was tickling the back of my brain.

“Ricky was, um…emasculated,” Templeton announced awkwardly.

“Who’s Ricky?” Patrick asked.

Templeton pointed to the formerly well-endowed mannequin. Even from where I stood, I could tell a distinctive part of his anatomy was missing.

“You’re sure that’s a new…um…alteration?” Patrick asked with disbelief.

“I’m positive,” Templeton told him.

“I just wrestled with it the other day,” I confirmed. “It was there. Now, it’s not.”

Patrick pursed his lips like he was trying not to laugh. Finally composed, he was able to shake his head and say, “I’ll make sure forensics takes a close⁠—"

“You said something about a silent alarm?” I blurted out, interrupting him.

Patrick nodded. “It was triggered and the patrol investigated.”

I frowned.

“What?” Mulligan asked.

“A silent alarm like a bank would have?”

He nodded. “Banks. Jewelry stores. Art galleries.”

“Tacky strip mall lingerie shops?” I asked. “Templeton, did you know about a silent alarm?”

He shook his head. “Loretta never mentioned one, but maybe Armani had one installed when she became a part-owner.”

Patrick strode over to the counter where the cash register sat undisturbed. “Should be easy enough to determine if the system exists.” He ran his fingers along the counter’s edge and then bent down to examine it.

When he didn’t pop back up, I asked, “What do you see?”

“Nothing,” he muttered. He straightened and marched toward the back rooms.

Templeton shot me an enquiring look. I shrugged helplessly.

“Who the hell are you?” a man demanded angrily.

I whirled around guiltily in his direction.

“This is a crime scene,” the man raged.

“We’re aware,” I told him coolly.

“I invited them in, Dr. Ferrer.” Patrick emerged from the back room and approached the irate newcomer.

“You invited them to contaminate my crime scene?” Ferrer glared at the redhead.

Patrick shrugged, unbothered. “They have both worked here in the past week, so they can’t have contaminated anything.”

“I must have missed when you got your doctorate, Detective,” Ferrer sneered.

“We’re done here,” Patrick told him in a tone so cold that I inadvertently shivered. He beckoned for Templeton to exit. Once he’d ducked under the tape, Patrick waved me over.

I avoided making eye contact with the not-good doctor as I left.

“Sorry about that,” Patrick said, falling into step beside me. “I kinda stretched the rules letting you in, and Ferrer is new and kinda feels like he has to throw his weight around.”

“Will you get in trouble?” I asked worriedly, knowing he’d stretched the rules because of our relationship.

“Not when I tell them that you were the one who realized that the silent alarm that brought the patrol car here doesn’t exist.”

21

“Where did he go?” Templeton asked for the third time. “How could he just leave like that?”

He was talking about the disappearing act Nat Hunting had pulled while we were in The Corset. When we’d come back out, his truck was gone. I’d checked my phone, but he hadn’t left a message explaining his sudden departure.

According to Piss, he’d checked on the animals, even opened the door to take a picture of her perched on the front seat, muttered something, and then jumped into his truck and peeled away in a hurry not long after we’d entered the shop.

I was trying to ignore how badly Nat’s abandonment stung, and Templeton voicing the very questions rolling through my head was not helping. I’d thought he was someone I could count on. It made me doubt everything I thought I knew, and I was second-guessing everything, including the route I chose to take to the hospital.

I finally parked in the visitor lot and we hurried toward the entrance of the Emergency Room. A tall, familiar figure was lurking beneath some trees a few yards outside the doors, typing away furiously on his phone.

“You go in,” I told Templeton. “I’ll deal with him.”

Templeton hurried inside and I pivoted to head toward the other man. “Hey.”

Jack Stern’s chin jerked up and he dropped his phone to the side when his gaze met mine. “You didn’t text.”

“I’m sorry,” I said guiltily. “There was so much to do, and I was distracted and⁠—”

He held up a hand to silence me. “I forgot to text you, too. And considering that I hang on each syllable of every word that comes over the police scanner like some people believe talk radio hosts are spreading the truth, I probably knew what had happened at The Corset before you.”

I nodded and asked hopefully, “Does that mean you know more than me now?”

He shook his head. “Sorry, no.”

I rocked back on my heels, caught off-guard by how much the lack of information disappointed me.

“I heard Susan’s groggy but awake,” he said quickly, hoping to make me feel better.

I nodded, not telling him that Lorraine Lassalan had texted me that bit of good news. “That’s something, at least. I don’t suppose you have any leads.”

He shook his head. “You?”

“Are you busy?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Well, I’d planned on spending the evening lurking in the shadows, hoping they rescue my on-and-off girlfriend and bring her here to get checked out, but I’m flexible.”

“I might have something,” I told him.

“What?”

“Give me a few minutes inside and I’ll come back and let you know.”

He nodded.

I headed inside, a plan forming in my mind.

“What lead do you have?” God whispered from my bra.

“I don’t have it yet,” I told him. “Bear with me.”

My family took almost the entire Emergency Waiting Room. They all looked tired and stressed. Lorraine Lassalan was trying to push a cup into my grandfather’s hand. Leslie was staring off into space while a drawn and shaken Templeton held her hand. Marlene looked like she’d been crying.

“How’d you get here?” I asked my sister.

“You mean, because no one thought to let me know what was going on?” she snapped.

I flinched. Then I lifted my chin. “I had other priorities.”

“Like what?”

“Keeping Alicia and the other kids safe.”

Chastised, she dropped her head, looking away.

I sighed. “Look, I’m sorry, Everything happened in such a chaotic rush. Is Griswald in with Susan?”

For a second, I thought Marlene wasn’t going to reply, but then she dipped her chin. “Yeah. She’s awake. Doctors say she’ll be okay.”

“And how’d you get here?”

She glanced up and seemed to determine I was going to keep bugging her with the question. “Delveccio’s bodyguard brought me.”

“Oh,” I murmured, surprised.

“He’s posted outside Susan’s room now,” she elaborated.

“Great.”

She nodded.

I moved over to where Lorraine was still trying to convince Herschel to take the water. “Thanks so much,” I told her. “I don’t know what we’d have done without you.”

She glanced worriedly in Leslie’s direction. “I’m concerned about her.”

I nodded sympathetically. “Go sit with her.” I held out my hand, signaling she should give me the water and the job of getting my grandfather to drink.

She flashed a half-smile of gratitude as she pushed the cup into my hand. She fluttered over to Leslie’s side and took her other hand, murmuring softly to her.

“I’m not thirsty,” Herschel muttered as I sat down beside him.

“I know,” I told him. “I was just trying to get her to leave you alone.”

He raised his gaze to meet mine. “Anything at the shop?”

“Not much,” I admitted. Then, I leaned closer and whispered, “I need your help.”

He slid a sideways glance toward me.

“Take the water so we don’t attract attention,” I urged, pressing the bottle into his hands.

He took it.

“I need to know where you ordered the pizza from,” I told him as quietly as possible.

“You think this was Armani’s ex?”

I shrugged. “The cops are looking for him their way. I just want to make sure every lead is being chased down.”

“You can’t go after him yourself,” Herschel protested.

“I’m going with Jack Stern,” I told him.

My grandfather looked doubtful.

“He can handle himself,” I declared. “Plus, I’ve got DeeDee and Piss with me.”

He nodded his approval, knowing I had the animals to save me. “I ordered the pizza from Three Point One Four Pie.”

I kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

“Be careful,” he warned as I got to my feet.

“Drink your water,” I told him with a wink, and hurried out of the waiting room without a word to anyone.

I race walked toward the exit, eager to go in search of Trey Pito.

“He had a good point,” God said. “What’s Jack going to do? Tell the bad guy that the pen is mightier than the sword and beat him with his byline?”

“I don’t have time to round up a better helper,” I told the lizard. “Besides, Jack is emotionally invested, that’s got to count for something.”

“Something, but not necessarily enough,” God murmured.

The second I cleared the doorway, Jack strode to me. “Get something?”

“Maybe. You know the cops are looking for Armani’s ex, Trey Pito?”

He nodded tightly. “They can’t find him and neither can I.”

“He showed up delivering pizza,” I revealed. “Do you think it would be worth going to that place to see if we can learn something?”

“It’s better than nothing,” he agreed.

“We have to take my car,” I told him.

He eyed me suspiciously. “Why?”

“Because I brought my cat and dog for back-up.”

He rolled his eyes. “After you.” As he followed me across the parking lot, he asked, “You don’t think the cops checked out the pizza joint?”

“I don’t know. But I’ve got to try something and this is the best I’ve got. Somebody took my aunt and best friend. I’m going to be the one to get them back.”

“Alive,” Jack added for good measure.

“Alive,” I confirmed.

“You know, they could already be…” God suggested gently.

“They’re alive,” I muttered under my breath. “I know it.”

The lizard fell silent.

Unfortunately, my own doubts did not. I was worried I was making a very big mistake.

22

“Tail,” I muttered when we were halfway to THREE POINT ONE FOUR PIE.

“The cat, the dog, raccoon, or the lizard’s?” Jack asked through gritted teeth.

“I think we picked up a tail,” I elaborated.

He glanced in the side mirror, searching. “You can spot a tail?”

“When I’m paranoid.”

“How do you know you’re not just being paranoid?” he asked.

“I don’t.”

“Oh, that’s reassuring.” He had one hand braced against the roof of the car and one holding on to the dashboard for dear life. “I’m being chauffeured by a woman who rides around with a menagerie who suffers from paranoia.”

“The animals aren’t paranoid,” I corrected. “I am. And you might want to add delusions of grandeur, since I’m thinking I can figure this out better than the cops.”

“The one-eyed cat could see this clearer than the Keystone Cops,” Jack grunted.

Piss cocked her head and mewed, “Was that a compliment or an insult?”

I honestly didn’t know, and it wasn’t the time to figure it out. Without signaling, I made a sudden, sharp, right-hand turn.

Jack yelped in surprise, slamming his hand against the roof like that would anchor him in place.

“Wheee!” DeeDee barked as she slid across the back seat.

Jack yelped again, though, this time, he sounded more terrified, like he thought the Doberman was about to rip him limb from limb.

I cut an equally tight left, which sent DeeDee sailing across the seat again.

“What are you doing?” Jack yelled.

“Losing the tail.”

“There is no tail,” he growled.

“Well, not now there isn’t,” I told him cheekily.

“Are you sure there even was a tail?”

I shrugged. “Not really.”

“And you couldn’t give me a heads-up that you were going to start driving like you were playing a deranged video game?”

“Sorry.” It was delivered as a platitude, not an apology, as evidenced by the fact I chuckled immediately after the word left my mouth.

We drove in silence, with me obsessively checking the rear-view mirror for the imaginary tail, for the last few blocks to the pizza place. As we drew near, the pungent scent of garlic seeped into the car.

“Hungry!” DeeDee barked.

Jack flinched. In his haste to escape the car, he practically fell out when I pulled into the lot and parked.

He stalked toward the entrance, patting his shoulders, hips, and knees like he was reassuring himself that all of his body parts were still in the right places.

“Piss, can you and Rowdy take a quick look around while we’re inside?” I asked as I slowly climbed out of the vehicle.

“You’ve got it, Sugar!” she meowed.

Leaving the door ajar so she could get out, I jogged to catch up with Jack. “What’s the plan?” I asked as I drew alongside him.

“Let me ask the questions.”

“Sure. You’re the pro,” I replied easily.

He shot me a suspicious look. He probably thought I was being sarcastic, but he’s a well-regarded reporter, which means to me he’s got a nose for the truth and isn’t afraid to ask the questions to get to it.

The scent of fresh pizza wafted toward us and my stomach growled in response.

“Hungry?” Jack laughed.

“I could eat.”

He opened the door to the store and allowed me to walk in ahead of him.

“Help you?” a teenager in a black t-shirt emblazoned with the shop name and liberally dusted with flour asked as soon as we walked in the door.

“We need a pie,” Jack began confidently, “half pepperoni and half…” He looked to me.

“Half meatball and anchovy,” I supplied without missing a beat.

The reporter crinkled his nose with distaste.

“That it?” the employee asked.

“Drink?” Jack asked me.

“Water,” I replied. “Two, please,” I added.

“To wash down the anchovies?” Jack teased. To the teenager, he said, “Make it three waters.”

While the kid totaled the order and took Jack’s payment, I wandered around the shop, which consisted of a couple of red vinyl booths, a dusty fake tree, and a bulletin board buried beneath a collection of frayed business cards and faded flyers. I pretended to study the contents while Jack performed his professional probing.

“Trey Pito work here?” Jack asked casually, cracking open a bottle of water.

The kid didn’t answer for a long moment, and I’d thought Jack had struck out, but he was patient and was finally rewarded with a response. “You a friend of his?”

“Never met the man, but we know someone in common,” Jack revealed.

“Impressive,” God whispered from my bra, “telling the truth in order to keep the subject at ease.”

“He’s a popular guy today,” the kid remarked.

“Why’s that?” Jack asked.

“Cops were in here earlier asking about Trey. He in some kind of trouble?”

“Could be,” the reporter agreed smoothly.

“Excellent!” The kid fist-pumped the air.

Surprised by the reaction, I glanced over and saw he was grinning.

Jack rolled with the unexpected opening. “Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy, am I right?”

The teenager’s head bobbed up and down. “He’s a first-class jerk.”

“That’s what I’d heard. The worst,” Jack agreed. “Were you able to tell the cops how to find him?”

“Maggie! Maggie!” Piss yowled from outside the pizza shop. Even with the door closed, the sound was ear-splitting.

I froze, unsure of what to do.

Jack shot me an incredulous look.

“I think that’s my cat,” I murmured with embarrassment, and quickly backed out of the shop. “I’d better see what she wants.”

Jack and the employee watched me in stunned disbelief as I made my awkward backward exit.

The cat wasn’t alone. The raccoon was standing beside her.

“Maggie,” Piss and Rowdy began the moment I stepped outside.

I power walked a few yards away so that I couldn’t be seen from the shop. The last thing I needed, at the moment, was to have the reporter witness me having a full-blown conversation with my feline friend and her masked buddy.

God scrambled up onto my shoulder to berate the cat. “I hope you’re proud of yourself. You just interrupted the retrieval of an important clue to help us learn the whereabouts of Trey Pito.”

The cat flexed her claws and narrowed her one good eye before she hissed, “I don’t need any clues. I know his whereabouts.”

I glanced around nervously, looking for Armani’s ex. “Where is he?”

“In the dumpster behind the shop,” Piss purred with satisfaction.

“I found him!” Rowdy announced proudly.

“Of course, you were the one dumpster diving,” God groaned. “You really are a trash panda.”

“Leave her alone,” I warned the lizard.

“He’s pretty ripe,” the raccoon said defensively. “Anybody could have found him.”

But not “anybody” had, and I was going to have to explain to the cops how I’d managed to find their prime suspect.

23

“You’re not eating,” I said to Jack. We were sitting on the hood of my car with what remained of the pizza between us.

“Dead bodies adversely affect my appetite,” he drawled.

I couldn’t eat either. Not because the body of Pito had turned my stomach, but because if he had been killed, it meant that whoever masterminded this thing was cleaning up loose ends, and time was running out for Armani and Loretta. If it hadn’t already…

When Jack had emerged from the store, balancing three bottles of water atop a steaming pizza box, I’d immediately announced, “I have to show you something.”

In short order, we’d “discovered” Trey Pito’s body in the dumpster and called the cops. Now, we sat on my car, waiting to be questioned by the detective in charge.

Not wanting to explain that it was a raccoon who’d found the body, I’d stowed Rowdy in the back seat, along with an entire piece of pizza. “It’s hot!” she’d marveled, having only ever had cold crusts pulled from trash cans.

Piss and a leashed DeeDee waited on the pavement in front of the car, watching me intently. I picked a mini-meatball off the pizza and tossed it to the Doberan. Then, I did the same with a bit of anchovy and fed it to the cat.

“Here he comes,” Jack warned.

I looked up to see Detective Patrick Mulligan striding toward us. He didn’t look happy.

“Patrick!” DeeDee barked excitedly.

He ignored the dog and glared at the humans in his sights. “What were you thinking?”

“We were looking for Trey Pito and came to his last place of employment to try to track him down,” Jack replied coolly. He added for good measure, “Which we did.”

“We did,” Piss meowed.

“You shouldn’t have been looking for him at all,” Patrick said.

“Because the cops are doing such an impressive job of finding Loretta and Armani?” I challenged.

Patrick’s green gaze narrowed.

“Maggie,” Jack warned.

“My aunt and my friend are missing, my other aunt was attacked, and we’re the ones who found the main suspect,” I complained bitterly. “Forgive me for not having faith in the police.”

Patrick’s jaw clenched and he held my gaze steadily while I ranted.

“Detective Mulligan!” a patrolman called in the distance.

“Wait here,” the redhead muttered before hurrying off.

After a long moment of silence, Jack said softly, “He’s doing his best. I’ve covered a lot of kidnappings, and this kind is the most frustrating to investigate. They’ve got no ransom demands, no witnesses, no clear motivation…and now, their one suspect has been found dead…by us…or, more accurately, by your pets.”

“Thank you for the acknowledgement,” Piss purred gratefully, despite Jack not being able to understand her.

“Not that I’m admitting the break came from a cat.” Jack chuckled ruefully, picked another piece of anchovy off the pie and tossed it to her.

I did the same with a meatball for DeeDee. “Why do you think the kidnapper left Aunt Susan behind? Because they didn’t expect to find her at the store? Because she wasn’t an intended target?”

“Probably because she fought back the most,” Jack replied without hesitation. It was clear it was a question he’d already grappled with. “I wouldn’t want to tangle with her.”

I nodded. That had been the conclusion I’d reached, too.

Patrick strode back toward us, his expression grim.

“Give the guy a break,” Jack urged.

This time, instead of ignoring DeeDee, the detective crouched down beside the Doberman and rubbed behind her ears. “I shouldn’t be telling you this,” he revealed in a low voice, using the dog’s body to hide from his coworkers the fact he was talking, “but you need to know. The medical examiner’s initial estimate for time of death is last night.”

“Before the abduction?” Jack asked in disbelief.

“That’s what they’re saying.” Patrick stood and patted DeeDee’s head.

My chest tightened like someone was vacuum-packing my lungs. I suddenly felt light-headed as I realized that the assessment made by Piss that Pito’s body was “pretty ripe” was correct. My main suspect had been nowhere near the scene of the crime.

Deprived of the ability to breathe, I started to pitch forward. I would have fallen if Patrick hadn’t moved quickly to halt my descent as I slid off the car.

“Whoa,” he murmured, his minty breath wafting over my cheek. “Take it easy.”

“Breathe!” Jack ordered sharply, grabbing my arm to help keep me upright.

“Okay you Maggie are?” DeeDee panted worriedly.

“Easy, Sugar,” Piss purred. “Slow easy breaths.”

I sucked in some air and gasped. “Sorry.” I sat back, pulling free from the two men who’d kept me from faceplanting into the pavement below. “I just got lightheaded.”

“That’s because you didn’t eat,” Jack groused. “You just picked at your food and fed it to your pets. You take better care of them than yourself.”

“You take better care of everyone else than yourself,” God murmured from my chest.

“Go home. Get some rest,” Patrick urged. “If there’s a development, I’ll let you know.”

“There’s nothing you can do here,” God coached. “Go.”

“Okay,” I agreed, slowly climbing off the car.

“I’m driving,” Jack declared, holding out his hand, palm up.

“Shotgun!” DeeDee barked.

Piss swatted her nose. “You can’t take Maggie’s seat.”

I dropped the key into Jack’s outstretched palm and rounded the car to get into the passenger side. I let the cat and dog into the back and then settled into my seat.

“Nobody’s given up on finding them,” Jack said as he adjusted the driver’s seat and mirrors to accommodate his height. “This is just a wrinkle.”

As he put the car into gear, I told him, “We need to go to the hospital.”

He glanced over at me. “I told Mulligan I’d take you home.”

“No, technically, you didn’t. You said you’d drive. I agreed to go home but, technically, I didn’t agree to a timeline.”

“Technically,” he muttered.

“My family is there,” I told him. “That’s where I need to be.”

“Okay,” he sighed. “But if Mulligan finds out, I’m telling him you forced me to bring you there.”

“He’ll believe you.”

“He probably would,” Jack chuckled. “You are a force of nature, Maggie Lee.”

I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes, trying to marshal my resources so I could figure out a way to find Armani and Loretta.

I must have drifted off, because, suddenly, a blaring siren jolted me awake. My eyes snapped open and I sat bolt upright, bouncing against the seat belt that stretched across me.

Blinking, I realized we were parked in the hospital lot.

“How long have we been here?” I asked, fumbling to free myself from the safety restraint.

Jack shrugged. “Twenty, thirty minutes.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

“You needed the sleep,” he replied calmly.

“That’s not for you to decide,” I snapped at him.

“Apparently, the nap didn’t do much for your attitude,” he drawled dryly.

“Be nice, Sugar,” Piss meowed from behind me. “He was being kind.”

“And you did need it,” God concurred from my bra.

I sighed heavily. “I’m sorry, Jack. I shouldn’t have⁠—”

“Don’t worry about it.” He reached over and released my seat belt buckle. “I’ve already forgotten it.” He climbed out of the car and looked into the back seat. “You guys be good.”

“Dog good!” DeeDee panted.

“I’m so full,” Rowdy groaned.

I realized giving her an entire slice of pizza might not have been the best of ideas. “I’ll be back soon.”

It was late and the hospital parking lot had a creepy, deserted feel as we crossed it.

To fill the void, I asked, “What next?”

“I need some rest, too,” Jack admitted. “Maybe a little recharge of the brain cells will give a clearer picture of what lead to follow.”

“Maggie!” Marlene called as soon as we stepped through the hospital doors. My sister rushed to me and embraced me in a tight hug.

“Sensitive skin,” God moaned, crushed between us.

I squeezed Marlene back. “What’s happened?”

“Nothing. We were just worried because nobody knew where you were and you’re not answering your phone.”

“Sorry,” I murmured. “The battery must have died, and I didn’t notice.”

“Lorraine took Leslie, Herschel and Templeton home,” Marlene said. “And I talked to the girls, and they are having the time of their lives at the impromptu sleepover at Dominic’s place.”

I nodded, a wave of gratitude washing over me that not only was Delveccio keeping them safe but making it fun for them.

“I told them they could stay overnight,” Marlene said. “Griswald said it’s probably the safest place for them.”

“And where is he?” I asked.

“He’s posted himself on guard duty outside Aunt Susan’s room.”

“Has she remembered anything about the attack?”

My sister shook her head. Concern darkened her gaze when she saw me scowl. “Let’s go home, Maggie. You look tired.”

“We’re all tired,” I muttered. I turned to Jack, who was waiting a few paces away. “Can you bring Marlene home?”

“No problem,” he assured me.

“Come with us,” Marlene pleaded.

I shook my head and kissed her cheek. “Leslie and Templeton must be complete wrecks. Go look after them.”

Nodding, she walked with Jack out of the hospital.

I took a couple of deep breaths, trying to fortify myself for what was coming next. Whatever that might be.

24

Not to brag, but I’m a bit of a ninja. Maybe not the literal kind, or the black-outfitted kind that Ms. Whitehat has sent in on multiple occasions to save the day, but I’ve got sharply honed skills when it comes to traversing hospital hallways after hours. I perfected these skills back when Katie was in a coma, and I now put them to good use.

Using cunning and craft, I crisscrossed the hospital, unnoticed and unbothered by the night shift staff. I ducked past gossip-filled nurses’ stations, skated around laboring maintenance workers, avoided orderlies, and stayed off the radar of anyone who might have called security on me.

I finally spotted Griswald slumped in a folding chair outside a room. His head hung against his chest, and I assumed he was dozing. At least, that’s what I hoped as I approached.

He jerked awake as I drew near. “Anything?” he croaked sleepily.

I filled him in on finding Trey Pito’s body, and then asked hopefully if Aunt Susan had provided anything new about the attack.

He shook his head, his voice heavy with sadness. “She may never. The doctor’s think she’s lost a couple of weeks’ worth of memory.”

I blinked. “Weeks?”

He nodded.

I swallowed hard, wondering how close to death my aunt had been if her brain had suffered that kind of injury.

“I don’t think the police have any leads,” I choked out. “If she can’t remember…”

“Go home and get some rest, Maggie,” Griswald urged. “Let the police do their job. Brian said he’ll let me know when progress is made, and I’ll tell you.”

“Promise?”

He nodded.

“You’ll let me know immediately?” I forced him to commit to a timeline.

He smiled slightly. “I give you my word.”

“Do you want me to find you something to eat before I go?” I offered. “The cafeteria is closed but I know where the vending machines are, and I know how to use them.”

He smiled slightly at my lame joke. “Brian brought me dinner earlier. But I could use a bathroom break.”

“Sure.”

He got up slowly, stiff from sitting for so long, and walked down the hall. When he’d disappeared from sight, I glanced around and then carefully cracked the door to the room open a couple of inches so I could peer inside.

My heart squeezed as I focused on my aunt’s pale, still form lying in the bed. Susan looked so small and fragile. A lump rose in my throat as I realized how close we’d come to losing her. My throat constricted when I considered that we might lose Loretta and Armani.

Blinking back tears, I slowly closed the door. I sank into Griswald’s chair, holding my head in my hands, overwhelmed by a sense of hopelessness.

My misery must have rendered me invisible, because a pair of residents strolled past, acting like I wasn’t even there.

“I swear,” one complained. “I’m so sick of this smell. They spray antiseptic instead of room freshener in this place. Would it hurt for them to switch it up with some sweet vanilla or blooming flowers?”

“They’re not strong enough to mask the stench of disease and death,” the other quipped. “Antiseptic does the job.”

The two continued on and I sniffed the air, noting the sharp smell for the first time. I’d spent so much time around it that I now just automatically ignored the offensive odor.

“Do you smell that?” I asked God.

“It’s better than Love Goo,” he replied. “Now that’s an assault to the olfactory senses.” Warming to his rant, he added, “It would obliterate the smell of death, disease and every bodily function known to living kind.”

“Bodily function,” I murmured. Noticing that Griswald was returning, though now he was scowling down at the phone he held, I stood.

“The subject is on the move, probably off to meet with her lover,” he announced.

I assumed he was talking about Marilyn Redding.

Griswald frowned. “Talk about bad timing for us. Is there any chance you⁠—"

“Bodily function,” I repeated excitedly.

“Are you so sleep-deprived that you’re repeating random phrases?” the lizard asked worriedly.

“Everything okay?” Griswald asked as he drew near. He looked as concerned as the lizard sounded. “Maggie.”

“Bodily function,” I said. I may have jumped up and down a little.

Griswald scanned up and down the hallway, looking like he needed to call an orderly to help restrain the mentally unbalanced woman in front of him.

“Snap out of it!” God ordered sharply.

I blurted out, “Farty Freddy!”

Griswald blinked. Over the course of his career as a U.S. Marshal, he’d faced down all manner of crazy criminals, but he had no idea how to respond to me.

“Farty Freddy,” I said again. “Or, as Susan referred to him, Flatulent Frederick.”

Griswald stared at me blankly. “Maybe you need⁠—"

“He’s one of Loretta’s exes. He passes gas all the time,” I explained. “Have you ever driven behind a garbage truck on a hot summer’s day? That’s what it’s like being around Farty Freddy.”

Griswald admitted slowly, “I’m not following.”

“The Love Goo!”

“The Love Goo,” he repeated carefully, obviously still not making the connection.

“The cloyingly sweet stuff was spilled at both incidents at The Corset. If it hadn’t been there, we would have smelled him.”

He nodded, but I saw his doubts.

“You don’t believe me,” I said hotly.

“I know you’re desperate for answers, but it’s a bit of a stretch,” he said in a condescending tone.

“Even if I told you that he came into Marlene’s work the other day and asked all kinds of questions about Loretta and the family and said something about her getting what she deserved?”

“That actually happened?” Griswald asked, his condescending tone vanquished.

“Ask Marlene, she’s the one who saw him. I meant to mention it after the break-in, but I got distracted and forgot…” I trailed off, swamped with guilt. How could I have forgotten a viable suspect?

“I’m calling Brian,” Griswald declared, whipping out his phone.

“Call Patrick Mulligan,” I urged. “He’s the one in charge of the kidnapping case.”

Griswald hesitated for a moment and then nodded. As he raised the phone to his ear, I sprinted away.

“Maggie!” he called. “Maggie, where are you going?”

I didn’t answer. I just kept running.

25

I dove into my car and started fumbling for my phone charger.

“What’s going on, Sugar?” Piss meowed. She yawned and did a full body stretch across the front passenger seat, like I’d woken her from a deep sleep.

“She’s having a psychotic break of some sort,” God supplied, scrambling onto my shoulder.

“I am not,” I muttered as I jammed the charger into my phone.

“You yelled at Griswald about Farty Freddy and then ran away from him.”

“C’mon. C’mon.” I tapped on my phone with its dead battery, like that would wake it up.

Piss kneaded my thigh, trying to soothe me.

“Hungry,” DeeDee whined.

“I’m going to explode,” Rowdy moaned.

“What are you doing?” God asked impatiently.

Finally, the phone flickered to life. I cradled it like it was on life support, pushed a button, and held my breath as the call connected.

“Yo!” Delveccio answered sleepily.

“Are you home?”

“I’m here. The kids are good. They ate too much junk and stayed up too late, but they’re good.”

“Great,” I muttered distractedly.

“Are you okay?” he asked with gruff concern.

“I’m fine. But you’re not lying? You’re really home?”

“Yeah, what’s this about?”

“You’ve got to stay there.”

“You think I’d leave with a house full of kids?” He sounded insulted.

“Where’s your brother?” I asked. I never knew which of the identical twins I was talking to, Tony or Anthony Delveccio, so I didn’t use names.

“What business is it of yours?” the mobster on the other end of the line growled suspiciously.

“Where is he?” I insisted.

“I like you, but you gotta know your place,” he warned.

I hesitated, remembering I was bossing around the head of a powerful and dangerous crime family. Still, I had to say it. “You can’t let him meet with Marilyn Redding.”

Delveccio didn’t respond.

“Or you can’t meet with her again,” I continued desperately.

More silence.

“Orson Redding has trackers on her. He’s trying to catch her having an affair. He hired Griswald to get the evidence and Griswald brought me in, so I’m the only one who knows about the arcade, but…”

“That ain’t why he’s tracking her,” Delveccio muttered. “But I appreciate the heads up.” He abruptly disconnected the call.

“What was that about?” the curious cat asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t really know. I just knew I owed him a warning.”

“Griswald’s not going to like it if he finds out,” the lizard said.

“Which of you is going to tell him?” I challenged.

“So, what now?” God asked.

“Hungry!” DeeDee reminded us all.

“I feel sick,” Rowdy complained.

God sighed. “It’s like living in a Maggie Lee fairy tale: Rowdy ate too much, DeeDee hasn’t had enough, and Piss is just right.”

“We’re going home,” I announced, starting the car. “We all need some rest.”

Alejandro trotted across the driveway moments after I’d pulled onto it.

I rolled the window down as I pulled alongside him.

“It has been quiet here, Maggie Lee. The only visitor is the truth seeker,” he announced solemnly. “No predators lurk in the darkness.”

“Thanks,” I told him. “You’re doing a great job.”

“You’re doing a great job?” God mocked as we pulled away.

“He had nothing to report. What was I supposed to say?” I asked.

“Don’t engage him, Maggie,” Piss meowed stridently. “He’s just acting like a superior fool.”

“A—a superior fool,” the lizard sputtered with outrage.

“Hush,” I told them both. “We’re here.” I parked the car and ushered all the animals out.

The cat and dog headed toward the back door of the house. The raccoon waddled toward the barn. The lizard perched on my shoulder.

“Cops have brought someone in for questioning,” Jack Stern announced.

I jumped, startled by his deep voice, not having realized he was sitting in the darkest corner of the porch.

“Guess we found the truth seeker,” God murmured.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to check some things on my phone after dropping Marlene off, and this was more comfortable than the car.”

“It’s fine,” I excused. “I’m just a little on edge.”

“Understandable.”

“The cops have probably brought in an ex-husband of Loretta,” I explained as I climbed the porch steps. “I told them how he’d ended up in the store where Marlene works, the other day, and had asked a lot of questions.”

“Do you think he could have done this?” Jack asked.

“I have no idea,” I admitted tiredly.

“You need to get some sleep.”

“What about you?”

“I have no idea what to do,” he said with a heavy sigh.

“You could stay here,” I offered. “Take Armani’s room for the night.”

“Thanks.” He got to his feet. “But I’ve got a couple of angles to work.”

“Can I help?”

“The only way you’re going to be able to help anyone, Maggie, is if you get some rest. If anything major pans out, I’ll let you know.”

“Promise?”

“Sure,” he said. “I promise. I’ll be in touch.”

I watched him walk off the porch, get in his vehicle and drive away. When his rear lights had disappeared, I took a deep breath and walked inside the house.

Herschel, Marlene, Leslie and Templeton were all lined up on the couch, intently watching a commercial for a car insurance company.

Templeton glanced over at me and explained, “A breaking local news story is coming up next.”

I plopped into a nearby chair, fervently hoping it wouldn’t involve The Corset.

As soon as the shot opened, I knew it had been a wasted wish. Not only was the tacky sign for The Corset shining in the background, but half the people milling about it were outfitted in goods that the shop sold. The other part of the crowd was dressed in “outside the bedroom” clothes. All held flickering phallic-shaped candles.

“I’m glad Susan isn’t seeing this,” Herschel muttered.

We watched in awe as the reporter explained where he was, that the co-owners were missing, and that the community had come together in solidarity with the absent women.

“They’re innovators,” a woman in a randy red see-through robe told the reporter.

A man in khakis and a button-up shirt followed that statement with, “They care about the community. They’ve been working to unite the shopkeepers here to⁠—”

“No chemical warehouses!” a heavily tattooed man shouted into the camera.

I recognized him as one of the owners of the tattoo parlor at the end of the strip mall.

“And there you have it,” the reporter concluded. “Two women have disappeared, the police have no leads, and emotions are running high in the community.”

My phone buzzed and I groaned over the reporter’s sign off when I saw who was calling.

“It’s Archie,” I told my family, getting up and walking back outside to take the call. “Hi, Dad.”

“Is it true, Maggie May?” my father asked. “I was just watching the news, and I saw the story.”

“Loretta and Armani are missing,” I confirmed as I headed toward the barn.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it was really busy and there was nothing for you to do.” I answered quickly, hoping he wouldn’t guess that it had never even occurred to me to contact him.

“I could have been supportive,” he argued, oblivious to the fact he hadn’t even been a mental footnote on my day. “I could have brought sandwiches.”

I let out a shaky sigh of relief. “I appreciate that, Dad. I really do. And I’m sorry, it’s just been one thing after another. Aunt Susan was injured during the abduction.” I stayed by the paddock, which was empty, since Irma was in her barn stall for the night.

“Is she going to be okay?”

I slapped a hand over my mouth to keep from bursting out laughing. After so many years of those two hating each other, I found it funny that he was now genuinely concerned about her well-being.

“Is she?” he asked, his voice cracking with worry.

“Susan’s fine,” I assured him. “A bump on the head, a little memory loss, and a night in the hospital for observation, but she’s fine.”

“And what are the police doing?”

“All they can,” I said tiredly. “Listen, Dad, it’s been a rough couple of days. I’ll call you tomorrow when I know more, okay?”

“Okay. Let me know what I can do. Sleep well.”

“Thanks, bye.” I ended the call and then double-checked to make sure that I didn’t have any missed messages.

Nobody had been in contact with any kind of news.

The phone buzzed before I could put it away. I stared at the caller ID for the briefest moment, filled with fury, and then rejected the call.

“Who was that?” God asked.

“Hunting,” I muttered.

The lizard wisely stayed silent.

The phone buzzed again. Hunting was being persistent. I rejected the call again and then, for good measure, blocked the man’s number.

“You should rest,” God urged softly.

Ignoring him, I bent and picked a rock up off the ground. Then, I whipped the slingshot Katie had given me out of my pocket, notched the rock, pulled back and let it fly into the nearby woods.

I heard it chip the bark of a tree, even though I couldn’t see the impact. I grabbed another rock and did it again.

“What’s bothering you?” God asked when I reached for a third.

I weighed the rock I held in my hand and squeezed it, letting the hard surface cut into my palm.

“You should talk it through,” the lizard urged.

“He’s not worth talking about.” I tried to sound definitive, but my voice cracked with the pain Nat’s abandonment had caused.

“I don’t think he’s what you’re most upset about,” God said gently.

“What should I be upset about? Never seeing Armani or Loretta again? Susan being in the hospital? Having no idea how to help anyone?” Every word I spoke became more brittle.

“But that’s not what’s bothering you the most, is it?”

I took a deep breath and admitted my fear with a quavering voice. “We know Armani’s dead ex doesn’t have them,” I confided. “And I kind of doubt Freddy would be able to take down all three women at once. So maybe…maybe…” I halted, unable to get the final words out.

“Maybe what?”

“Maybe it’s an enemy from my past who’s done this. I’ve certainly made enough of them. Maybe the note was right, and this really is all my fault.”

26

Admitting the idea that I was somehow responsible for whatever had happened to Armani, Loretta and Susan twisted like a knife in my gut. I hunched over, whimpering in pain.

“Don’t cry, Maggie,” a small voice urged from the darkness. The little rabbit hopped out of the shadows, landed at my feet, and stared up at me, his whiskers quivering.

“Hi, Twitch.” I scooped up the rabbit and cuddled him against my chest. I rested my cheek against his fur, delighting in how soft it felt. I could hear the rapid beating of his heart. The rhythm soothed me.

“Hi, God,” the bunny whispered. “I’m sorry I interrupted.”

“You did the right thing,” he responded warmly. “You are exactly what Maggie needed in this moment.”

I stood for a few minutes, cuddling the rabbit and calming down.

It almost worked.

Then, I heard a footstep behind me, followed by, “You should answer your phone, Lee.”

I whirled, throwing the rock I’d still been holding, toward the voice.

Twitch let out a startled squeak, wriggled out of my arms, and hopped away into the darkness.

Nat Hunting held up his hands, signaling his surrender. “Easy.”

“Get away from me,” I ordered through gritted teeth, balling my hands into fists.

“We need—” he began calmly.

“Get out of my sight before I have the animals attack you,” I warned furiously.

“I understand—” he tried again.

“I’ll have Herschel shoot you!” I threatened wildly.

He dropped his hands to his sides and began walking slowly toward me. “Which one is it going to be, Lee?”

His tone was even, but I could hear that it was laced with barely contained anger. Instinctively, I retreated, realizing he could be a threat.

“Are you setting a pack of wild animals on me?” he mocked.

“Technically, they’re domesticated,” God pointed out from my shoulder.

Nat continued advancing. “Or are you going to tell the old man to try to blow my head off?”

I took another step backward and found myself pressed against the paddock fence. I was trapped. My heartbeat thundered in my ears as I desperately tried to figure out how to escape.

Nat must have seen a flash of my fear because he stopped advancing and dropped his chin to his chest. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he muttered, stepping backward to put space between us. “You just don’t listen. You forget that I’ve been nothing but a friend to you and get all these paranoid ideas…” He trailed off, spiking his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“She does that pretty often,” God told him. “Don’t take it personally.”

But the man couldn’t understand him.

“Whitehat needs to see you,” Nat revealed. “That’s why I was calling. She’s waiting.”

I stared at him, unsure of how to proceed.

“It’s probably about Armani and Loretta,” God pointed out. “You should go.”

“Okay,” I told Hunting.

“My truck’s at the top of the driveway.” Without another word, he spun on his heel and stalked away.

“Now, you follow him,” God coached when I didn’t move. “You need all the help you can recruit to get back your loved ones.”

Knowing he was right, I hurried after Nat.

Neither of us spoke as he drove me to the meeting place with Whitehat. Noting how tightly he gripped the steering wheel, and the set of his jaw, I assumed he was still pretty angry. So was I. I wouldn’t be forgiving his betrayal anytime soon.

As was often the case, Whitehat had set up the meeting in a nondescript house in an average neighborhood. Sometimes, I wondered if she liked the idea of the anonymity of suburbia or if she secretly longed to have some sort of normal home life.

Nat pulled into the driveway and parked behind a white SUV.

I was surprised that he accompanied me to the door. Usually, I met with the pantsuit-loving leader of the mysterious organization by myself.

He rapped twice on the front door and then pushed it open. He looked down at me expectantly and I self-consciously scurried inside.

Whitehat reclined on an armchair but sat up straighter when we entered. “Tea?” She waved her hand over a coffee table that was laden with crustless tea sandwiches, pastries, and numerous steaming teapots.

I blinked at her, wondering if I’d stepped into some weird Stepford-wives version of her world.

“Sit,” she invited, pointing at the overstuffed sofa.

I sank into it and then had to scoot over when Nat sat down beside me.

“I’m sorry that it’s taken so long for me to get in touch,” Whitehat began.

I frowned. The woman wasn’t in the habit of apologizing, and it made me nervous.

“But it took a bit to chase down the lead Mr. Hunting brought us.”

“What lead?” I looked to Nat, but his expression was unreadable as he loaded sandwiches onto a dainty plate.

Instead of answering the question, Whitehat picked up a teapot and filled two cups. She managed to hand me one without the cup rattling against the saucer. As off-balance as I was, it made a racket after I took it. I quickly placed the drink on the table in front of me.

Nat silently offered the plate of tiny sandwiches.

I snatched it away from him impatiently. “Will someone please tell me what’s going on?”

Whitehat leaned back in her chair and sipped her drink before replying. “Are you familiar with the Nestor Corporation?”

The name seemed vaguely familiar, but I wasn’t sure why, so I shook my head.

“A nasty group,” she disapproved. “The kind that thinks regulations are roadblocks to be gotten over or around, rather than safety precautions. Usually, their lawyers do their dirty work, but they’ve been known to go with outside contractors. The kind that don’t have any qualms about getting their hands dirty.” She paused to nibble on a cucumber sandwich. “You really should eat something. You’re looking a bit peaked.”

“What does this have to do with what happened at The Corset?” I asked, ignoring the suggestion. “You’re wrong if you think Armani and Loretta would be involved with that kind of business. Sure, they both make their share of questionable choices, but they’re not bad people. They don’t deserve whatever’s happened to them.”

Whitehat arched an eyebrow. “You do have a propensity for illogical loyalty, Ms. Lee.”

I glared back at her.

“It’s one of the things I admire about you,” the other woman revealed with a half-smile. “You love and fight for your family and friends.” She stared pointedly at my brimming cup. “At least drink something. You’re going to need your strength.”

“For what?”

She waited.

Resenting the pressure she was exerting, I picked up the tea and slurped at it loudly. Aunt Susan would have been horrified at my poor manners. Beside me, Nat chuckled.

Whitehat appeared mildly amused.

“I’m waiting,” I told her impatiently.

She inclined her head. “To be honest, we hadn’t been aware that the Nestor Corporation was active in the area. If Mr. Hunting had not brought it to our attention…”

I turned to Nat. “What lead?”

He looked to the woman in charge. “Your information is more important than my explanation.”

“As you wish,” she agreed. “Long story short, the Nestor Corporation wants to purchase the site of the strip mall.”

“Why?” I asked.

“They’re a cog in a bigger and badder organization.”

I waited for more of an explanation, but none was forthcoming.

I was forced to guess, remembering what the tattoo guy had said on the news broadcast. “Chemicals?”

Whitehat nodded.

“I still don’t understand what this has to do with the attack and abduction.”

“Your aunt and, more specifically, your lottery-winning friend, are unexpected roadblocks in Nestor’s path.”

I snapped my fingers. “Nestor!”

Whitehat’s gaze glazed over with worry. “That is what we’ve been talking about.”

I could tell she thought my mental synapses were misfiring or something, so I quickly explained, “Aunt Loretta complained about two people trying to ruin her business, Donna, the dead woman, and a nosy Nestor. She must have meant the corporation.”

“Or Karla Nestor,” Whitehat murmured thoughtfully. “She’s the second-in-command and, from all reports, likes to be on the ground, wreaking havoc. It’s possible your aunt had run-ins with her.”

“And the police don’t know about all this?” I asked.

“Doubtful,” Whitehat confirmed. “If Hunting hadn’t⁠—”

“What is it you did?” I exploded at Nat, interrupting her.

Instead of answering me, he popped an egg sandwich into his mouth.

“You have a job to do,” Whitehat declared. “You do that, and we’ll keep working our end.” She rose to leave.

I jumped up. “What job?”

“Mr. Hunting will explain it. If you’ll excuse me.” She pivoted to leave.

I grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks. “Tell me how to find them.”

Stiffening, Whitehat gave me an icy look.

In the past, I would have backed down, but now, I hung in there. Literally. I held my ground and didn’t release her arm. “Tell me.”

“We’re working on it. You do your job.” With that, she shook herself free and marched out.

I stared after her, a mixture of confusion and hope vying for space within me. I had no idea what was going on, but I had the feeling that there was a plan in place and that I just might get my aunt and best friend back. Suddenly lightheaded, I swayed weakly.

“Do you want to take some sandwiches to go?” Nat asked. “Or are you going to start throwing things at me again?”

27

“You abandoned me!” I accused Nat the moment we’d pulled out of the driveway of Whitehat’s meeting house.

Before he could drive, the cupholders and center console had been filled with a collection of stolen sandwiches and purloined pastries. As a result, it had taken a while to get going. I’d sat there, barely able to contain my outburst about his betrayal.

Nat glanced over at me. “Is that why you’re mad?”

“Of course it’s why I’m mad!”

He pursed his lips and let out a slow, deep breath. “I didn’t abandon you. You were with Templeton and your boy toy, Mulligan.”

“He’s not my boy toy!” I exclaimed defensively.

“I’m not deaf, dumb and blind, Lee. He’s more than a passing acquaintance,” Nat accused.

I was surprised by the note I heard threading through his tone. Was that jealousy?

“Anyway,” he continued, “you had them, your phone, your car and you were in a familiar place. Therefore, you weren’t abandoned. I just left without telling you because, like you, I’m an autonomous adult.”

“You could have called,” I pointed out.

“Just like you could have called to see if I was okay,” he argued. “For all you knew, I could have been abducted, too.”

“But—” I began.

“Don’t!” God bellowed, guessing that I’d been about to blurt out that Piss had told me exactly what Nat had done. “Do not say it.”

I snapped my mouth shut.

“I’m guessing from that squeak that the lizard doesn’t like us fighting,” Nat said.

“I do not squeak!” God raged.

Which just sounded like more squeaking to Nat, who flinched at the sharp pitch.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was leaving,” the man beside me apologized.

“Why didn’t you?”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I couldn’t figure out a way to tell you that wouldn’t have made you panic more than you were already. I’d seen you piling the kids into the car, you were already terrified. I didn’t want to make things worse.”

“You did.”

“Yeah, well, in hindsight, I can see that,” he muttered.

My throat was tight as I wondered aloud, “You couldn’t tell me what?”

“I saw the note on your passenger seat,” he admitted.

“We should have guessed that when Piss said he’d taken her picture,” God noted. “She’s not exactly a glamor puss.”

“The one that said it’s all my fault?” I clarified, my words barely more than a whisper.

“Yes,” Nat replied matter-of-factly.

I sucked in a shuddering breath. Two fat tears slid down my face as he confirmed that what happened at The Corset was due to something I’d done. It was my fault they were suffering. I began to shake.

Nat glanced over at me, swore under his breath, and abruptly pulled off the road. He twisted in his seat and cupped my cheek in his hand. “Lee?” Worry sharpened his gaze. “Talk to me, Lee.”

I stared at him, unable to put the intensity of guilt I was feeling into words.

“I’m sorry you felt like I abandoned you. I’m sorry I didn’t call.” His voice was rough with worry. “I was trying to protect you.”

“From myself,” I murmured. He’d thought I couldn’t handle knowing the attack and abduction were all my fault. Considering how terrible I felt, he might not have been wrong.

“Well, yeah, from yourself. You have a habit of charging headfirst into trouble. I figured if you didn’t know, you couldn’t do anything. I know I sidelined you, but I believed I was doing it for your own good.” He wiped the tears off my cheek.

“Who is it?” I asked.

“What?”

“Who did I make an enemy of? How did I cause this?”

“You didn’t cause this,” he said. “Whitehat explained about Nestor.”

“But the note…”

He studied me intently and the lightbulb went off. He winced as he suddenly understood. “Oh, Lee. You’ve been thinking this was your fault. It wasn’t. That stupid note is something they use all the time. They leave it for random people, who then feel really threatened, or in your case, guilty. It’s just a mind game. Nothing else. You have nothing to do with what happened.”

I blinked, staring at him, trying to see if he was just saying that to make me feel better.

He met my gaze steadily. “I swear this is a business dealing, not a personal vendetta against you. It’s got absolutely nothing to do with you.”

“It’s not my fault?” I whispered, sagging with relief.

“I should have told you,” he said regretfully, pulling away and turning so that he faced the steering wheel. “But I wanted to get it all figured out so you wouldn’t go running off without a full understanding of what we were up against. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you’d be torturing yourself like this.”

“It’s okay,” I excused, recognizing the truth behind his words. “What was the lead Whitehat mentioned?”

“The note itself,” he explained. “I saw Nestor use the same tactic a few years ago. As soon as I recognized it, I brought Whitehat into the loop. We figured out they’d recruited Trey Pito to try to intimidate Armani, but we got to him too late. He was already dead. We were going to transport the body after the pizza shop closed, but then you and Stern found him. Or, should I say, the cat and raccoon found him?”

“Dun…dun…dun!” God intoned dramatically.

“You were there?”

“Yup. I don’t think the cops really believe your story that your pets found the body, but I saw it with my own eyes.”

I stayed silent, unsure of how to respond.

“We should go search Armani’s room,” he declared, pulling back onto the road. “And you need to eat something.”

We rode in silence for a while before I asked softly, “Do you think they’re still alive?”

“Yes,” he replied without hesitation.

“What makes you so sure?”

“I think they saw the opportunity for a double payday. Whoever took them will get their payment from Nestor. Then, I’m guessing they’re going to ask for a ransom for Armani’s safe return.”

“What about Loretta?”

“I suspect she’ll be part of the deal. Now, eat something. This thing isn’t over, and you need to keep up your strength.”

The idea that there was a chance that they’d both survive, and that none of this was my fault, had untwisted the knot in my stomach, and I was suddenly ravenous. I grabbed a cucumber sandwich from the cupholder.

Nat nodded his approval.

“I’m sorry I threw the rock at you,” I murmured.

He chuckled. “I’ve had worse come at me, Lee.”

“And I’m sorry I accused you of abandoning me,” I muttered self-consciously.

He reached over and patted my knee. “I’m sorry it felt that way. I can see how it would with your…” He trailed off, thinking better of finishing the sentence.

“My track record,” I concluded bitterly. Even though Gino had left for a right and noble reason, it still felt like I’d been left behind.

“Family history,” he amended. “I’m sure that between your mom’s issues and your dad’s arrests, you and your sisters must have felt abandoned on a regular basis.”

“We did,” I admitted, “but at least we always had our aunts. Well, Aunt Susan. She was the one who really held it together on a practical basis. Leslie and Loretta provided a lot of love, though. I’m not sure I’ve ever let them know how much I appreciated them.”

“We’ll get Loretta back,” Nat pledged. “Believe that.”

28

Dawn was breaking when we got back to the house. Herschel was already out, taking care of the outdoor animals.

“I can do that,” Nat offered to the older man as he climbed out of the truck.

My grandfather shook his head. “Better for me to keep busy. Speaking of which,” he looked at me pointedly, “Piss and DeeDee are losing their minds without having the job of guarding the girls.”

I nodded my understanding.

“Morning, Maggie!” Irma brayed loudly.

I walked over to pet the donkey as Herschel said, “Templeton’s fussing in the kitchen.”

I’d guessed that since a delicious aroma, a combination of fresh coffee, warm dough and cinnamon, was wafting from the house. It smelled like comfort.

“Leslie and Marlene are going to Delveccio’s place,” Herschel continued.

“They can’t bring the girls home,” I said quickly. “We don’t know if it’s safe.”

“Griswald told them that. He came back to shower and get a change of clothes for Susan about fifteen minutes ago.”

I exchanged a look with Nat. Searching Armani’s room without anyone noticing would be more difficult with the retired lawman prowling around.

“The detective is coming! The detective is coming!” Alejandro’s whistled warning filled the air.

Billy pranced out of the barn. “I’m ready!” The goat head-butted the air like he was shadow boxing.

Matilda waddled behind him, oinking loudly, “I’m here!”

“Piss! Piss!” Irma brayed as loudly as she could.

Percival, tail feathers on full display, ran over, screeching, “Alert! Alert!”

Nat spun in a slow circle, staring wide-eyed at the animals. He paused long enough to shoot me a confused and alarmed look.

“Visitor incoming,” I explained over the cacophony.

“Maggie!” DeeDee only barked my name once.

Turning toward her voice, I was caught off-balance when she jumped at me. The collision had us both crashing to the ground.

“Sensitive skin!” God squeaked hysterically. “Are you trying to kill me, you giant drooling oaf?”

“Sorry,” DeeDee whined, ears back. “You missed I.”

“It’s okay.” I ruffled the top of her head. “I missed you, too.”

As Nat helped me get back up on my feet, Brian Griswald’s car rolled into view. I frowned. I’d assumed he’d been assigned to relieve his uncle outside of Susan’s room. If they were both here, who was watching over my aunt?

I hurried toward him. “Is there news?”

“Just that it doesn’t appear Loretta’s ex who we brought in for questioning is a viable suspect.”

“So, you’re no closer to finding my daughter,” Herschel complained from behind me.

I glanced back at him, but he’d already turned and was headed for the barn, shoulders slumped and head down.

I turned back to the detective. He was staring at the ground, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“Let’s go get some coffee,” I told him. “You too, Hunting.”

We walked around to the back of the house and into the kitchen, with DeeDee trailing close behind. Piss stood by the door, licking her paw, but didn’t look up as we filed past, no doubt punishing me for having left her behind.

“Coffee’s ready,” Templeton said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Cinnamon buns need another five minutes.”

“No rush,” I murmured, surveying the kitchen. Ingredients and dirty bowls were everywhere. Usually, Templeton was meticulous about cleaning up after himself as he worked, probably the only reason Aunt Susan permitted him in the kitchen, but at the moment, it looked like a tornado had ripped through the place. I knew it had to be a representation of the internal turmoil he was struggling with.

I moved to give him a hug, but he ducked out of my path, avoiding me. Instead, he locked eyes with Brian. “Anything?”

“Afraid not,” the detective replied as gently as possible.

“It can’t be good. This long…” Templeton’s implication sucked all the oxygen out of the air, and we stood there, slightly dazed.

The timer dinged and we all jumped a little.

Templeton turned to take the pans out of the oven while I got busy pouring coffee. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that, as he put the trays down, his hands shook. In his own way, he really loved Loretta and this worrying about her was taking a toll on him.

Griswald burst in, piercing the bubble of silence that we’d all been stuck in. “You’re back,” he said to me.

“I am,” I confirmed.

“I need you to work the Redding case today.” He thrust the phone provided by Orson Redding toward me.

“No.” I stepped back, refusing to take the device. While I was avoiding it, I noticed that Templeton was smearing cream cheese icing on the cinnamon buns like it was a perfectly normal morning.

“But I have to bring Susan home.”

“And I have better things to do than chase after a gold-digging bimbo so that she can get her due,” I spat out.

“Like what?” Griswald challenged.

“I’ll bring Susan home,” I said. “You do the sleazy job you agreed to.”

“Ummm…you can’t,” Nat said.

I glared at him. “Excuse me?”

“You can’t bring Susan home,” Nat said. “Yesterday, you promised to visit the girls,” he reminded me pointedly.

I blinked. It was a lie, but I could tell he wanted me to play along with it.

“Fine,” Griswald sighed. “I’ll bring Susan home.”

Nobody asked what would happen with the Redding job. Nobody cared.

“Hungry!” DeeDee barked.

“I’ll feed her,” Templeton offered. “These are ready. Just help yourselves.” He made a beeline for the pantry and, soon, the sound of kibble filling a bowl could be heard.

“Anything new with the investigation?” Griswald asked his nephew as he began stacking sticky servings of cinnamon buns on plates.

“Mulligan doesn’t think Loretta’s ex is a viable suspect and they cut him loose,” Brian answered.

While they talked, Templeton poured some cream into a saucer for Piss and carried it outside where the cat waited.

Nat caught my eye and tapped his watch.

I nodded.

“Maggie, come quick!” Piss meowed, sounding alarmed. “Come alone!”

“Time to go out, DeeDee,” I told the Doberman.

She cocked her head, clearly confused, since she’d heard the cat’s instruction to come alone.

“Out!” I shooed her through the door and followed her outside. I immediately knew why Piss had sounded panicked. Templeton was leaning against the wall, eyes closed, clasping his chest.

“Easy,” I murmured, wrapping an arm around his shoulders so I could keep him from falling and hitting his head if it came to that. “Easy now. Do you have pain? Numbness?”

When he opened his eyes, I saw they were full of tears. “I love her. She’s crazy and difficult and makes me nuts, but I love her.”

“I know. She knows.”

He began to cry softly.

“Hurt?” DeeDee panted softly. “Sick?”

“His heart is hurting,” the cat told her canine companion.

“It’s okay,” I soothed, rubbing Templeton’s back. “She’s going to be okay. It’s all going to be okay.”

“I wish I could believe you,” he admitted tearfully, “but I’m losing hope.”

We stood there for a long moment, clinging to each other, until we heard the kitchen door shut.

I looked over and saw Nat watching us.

“I’m really sorry,” he said. “But we really have to go. Now.” He began striding toward his truck.

“Go,” Templeton urged. “I’ll be okay. Go work whatever magic you’re going to do. Bring her home.”

“Bring her home!” the falcons screeched plaintively to a familiar melody as they circled above.

“Who knew they were Les Mis fans?” God marveled from my bra. “It must be their background in entertainment.”

“I’m coming with you!” Piss bounded ahead, determined to reach the truck before me.

“C’mon, DeeDee!” I slapped my thigh, and the dog ran parallel to me.

I had no idea what was going on, but I was taking my A-Team of back-up along for the ride.

29

After everyone had clambered into Nat’s truck, he announced, “We’ve got to stop him.”

“Stop who?” I asked.

“Stern.”

“Jack?”

Nat nodded grimly as he drove away from the house.

“I’m sorry, but you don’t know Jack,” I told him. “Whatever you’re thinking he did, he most definitely did not do.”

“So, you think that the crack crime reporter wasn’t smart enough to follow the money trail and figure out the connection to the Nestor Corporation?” Nat asked sarcastically.

“Jack did tell you he was following the money,” God reminded me.

When I didn’t respond, Nat shook his head. “Tell me something, Lee. Are you insanely loyal to all of your friends except me?”

I winced, hearing the hurt in his tone. “I shouldn’t have⁠—”

“I don’t want an apology,” he interrupted sharply.

We rode in tense silence until I finally asked, “Where are we going?”

“Your friend is waiting to ambush Karla Nestor when she leaves the hotel where she’s been staying.”

“Waiting to ambush like a reporter or like a guy whose girlfriend has been kidnapped?”

“I don’t know,” Nat muttered. “Hence the need to get there ASAP.”

“Is Ms. Whitehat sending ninjas?” I asked.

“What?”

“Ninjas. Is she sending ninjas?”

“She’s sending us.”

“Just us?” I squeaked nervously.

“She shouldn’t be involved or helping us with this at all. If her involvement is discovered, it won’t take a genius to figure out her connection to you. And it’s not a stretch to extend that to me.”

I got a sinking feeling in my stomach as I glanced over at him. “Are you in danger because of helping me with this?”

He didn’t answer.

“Just let me handle this,” I told him. “Go do something public. Preferably, stupid in public, because that will give you attention and an alibi.”

“The cops aren’t going to be asking me for an alibi, Lee,” he chuckled.

“The equivalent of an alibi to criminals,” I muttered with frustration. “You know what I meant.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Besides, we’re already here.” He pulled to a stop across the street from the ritziest hotel in town. “You’re already outnumbered and outmaneuvered. You’re going to need all the help you can get.”

“That’s why I’ve got Piss and DeeDee.”

“And me,” God reminded me, sounding insulted he hadn’t been mentioned.

“Because you’re always so heroic in battle as you whine about your sensitive skin,” Piss mocked.

“I’ll have you know—” God began to pontificate.

“There he is!” I shouted, pointing out the window.

Jack Stern was leaning against the trunk of his car, his phone held in front of him, but his eyes on the front door.

“I’m going to stop him,” I declared, hopping out of the truck. I pretended not to hear Nat’s plea to wait and marched toward Jack with purpose.

He hadn’t seen me, but I saw him tense like a hunting hound as a woman in head-to-toe merlot leather with spiky blonde hair emerged from the hotel. He pushed himself off the car, standing, preparing to strike.

“Hi, sweetie,” I called breathlessly.

He started to move toward the woman, his gaze intent.

I sprinted across the distance that separated us and latched onto his arm. “Let her go,” I whispered.

He automatically tried to shake me off. Then, recognizing me, he hesitated. “What are you doing?”

“Stopping you.”

“Why?”

“To prevent you from doing something stupid.”

“Like finding your frien—damn!” He scowled as Karla Nestor ducked into a waiting town car which eased away from the curb. “I’m losing her.”

He spun around and leapt into his car, gunning the engine to life.

I jumped into the passenger seat. “Don’t do this, Jack.”

“You can’t stop me,” he said as the car bucked forward. “But you should put on your seat belt.”

As I reached for the restraint, I glanced over my shoulder, hoping to see Nat’s truck following behind, but I didn’t spot it.

I buckled in and hoped for the best.

Jack’s gaze was intense as he tailed Nestor’s town car.

“Who are we following?” I asked.

“Better question, how did you just happen to show up and know it was a ‘her’ I was after?” he ground out, his gravelly voice deeper than usual because of his irritation.

I hesitated, unsure of how to answer. “Dumb luck?” I suggested weakly.

“Oh yeah, that’s you,” Jack agreed in an almost sing-song voice. “Maggie Lee. The family screw-up who can’t hold down a job yet is the person everyone relies on and who seems to save lives on a regular basis. You have dumb luck.”

I remained silent, grateful he was focused on the aspect that I saved lives instead of the fact that my history was scattered with corpses.

“Now, tell me why you’re here,” he ordered in his regular voice, “or so help me, I’m pushing you out the next time I come to a stop.”

I glanced in the side-view mirror but didn’t see Nat’s truck. I decided to turn the tables on the reporter. I’d be the one asking questions. “What were you going to do? What was your plan? Did it occur to you that by confronting her you might make things worse?”

“What was I supposed to do? Nothing? Just sit back and wait?” he countered angrily.

“You could have told the cops what you know,” I argued. “Helped the investigation instead of hindering it.”

“I didn’t hinder anything.”

As we argued, Nestor zigzagged through the streets ahead of us. No matter how many times I glanced in the mirror, I never spotted Nat bringing up the rear. Soon, we were in a more expensive neighborhood, the kind that sported long driveways, fancy in-ground pools, and ornate iron gates.

Nestor’s car turned into one of those driveways, and by the time we reached it, the iron gate had swung shut. To his credit, Jack didn’t slow or even glance in the direction of the house as he eased past it.

Instead, he calmly continued on for a good distance, turned the car around, and parked an eighth of a mile away. I could barely make out the driveway’s asphalt from that distance, so I was willing to bet that the security cameras couldn’t see his car.

“It’s always about following the money,” Jack muttered, drumming on the steering wheel.

Under other circumstances, I would have complimented him on his ability to follow and disguise himself, but I was otherwise occupied, trying to figure out what to do next. Surveying the neighborhood, I decided that with its large, spread-out properties, it could be the perfect place to hold two women hostage.

Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I considered the options. Without evidence, I couldn’t call in the cops, Ms. Whitehat wasn’t sending in the ninjas to save the day, and I’d lost most of my back-up, but I had to do something.

I unbuckled my seat belt and reached for my door handle.

“What are you doing?” Jack asked, clearly alarmed.

“I’m going in.”

30

“You wait here,” I told the reporter. “If I’m not back out in half an hour, call the cops. Tell them you saw me scale the fence and that you heard a terrible scream.”

“That’s a stupid plan,” Jack argued.

“No, it’s not. I’m an excellent climber.”

“I meant, you breaking in there by yourself.”

I shook my head. “It’ll work. What’s the worst thing that happens? If I get charged with breaking-and-entering, I’ll claim I was under emotional duress because of the abductions. The worst I’ll get is a slap on the wrist.”

“Or you’ll end up like Armani and your aunt,” he suggested worriedly.

Impulsively, I leaned across the car and kissed his cheek. “You know, under that gruff exterior, you’re a mush. Don’t worry. I’ve got this.”

I jumped out of the car and marched resolutely toward Nestor’s location, doing my best to ignore the nervous churning of my stomach.

“Far be it from me to doubt your wisdom,” God began, as he scrambled up my bra strap.

“Yeah, I know it’s a terrible plan. But I have to at least try something. If they’re in there and I don’t, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“You could call in reinforcements and not go it alone,” the lizard suggested. “Nat’s available. Patrick, too. I’m pretty sure both of the Griswalds would show up, too. Not to mention Delveccio sending in a team. You don’t have to do this alone.”

“And either risk their lives, or in Brian and Patrick’s cases, their careers? I won’t do it. It would be different if I knew for certain that Armani and Loretta are inside and a rescue could be mounted, but I really have no idea.”

“So, you’re relying on dumb luck,” God noted.

“It’s worked for me in the past.”

“You’re going in blind. This is crazy.”

“Sometimes, being crazy is the only solution to what feels like an impossible problem.” I reached the edge of the Nestor property and studied the fence. “Pretty simple to climb. Here goes nothing.” I grabbed the hard metal and began hauling myself upward.

A few seconds later, I was on the other side.

“It amazes me that you avoid exercise like the plague, are woefully out of shape, and a giant klutz, and yet you climb with grace and speed,” God said.

“Careful. That almost sounded like a compliment.”

“More like I was pointing out a freaking anomaly,” he replied snootily.

Using the trees that dotted the property as cover, I slowly and steadily made my way closer to the house. It looked like a Mediterranean villa owned by some kind of obscure, but loaded, royalty. It did not look like it belonged in Jersey.

“That’s an awfully big place to search room by room and not get caught,” God remarked. “That’s assuming you can even get inside.”

“I noticed,” I muttered.

“Maybe now is the time to call in reinforcements?” he suggested hopefully.

“If Jack does like I asked, the cops will be here in thirty minutes.”

“But they won’t have a warrant, and no search will be made,” he countered.

“Unless they hear the screaming.”

“What screaming?”

“The screaming Jack will have reported hearing.”

“The imaginary screaming,” God stressed.

“I’ll make it real once the cops arrive.”

“So that’s your brilliant plan? To scream at the top of your lungs?”

“Hey, you never know, it just might work.”

“What might work?” a voice asked from behind me.

God let out a startled yelp and dove into my bra.

Eyes. Nose. Throat. Groin. My self-defense mantra echoed in my head.

I turned around very slowly and found myself face-to-face with Karla Nestor. Up close, her spiky hair looked sharp enough to actually cut someone, and the look in her eyes assured me she could actually kill someone.

“Oh, hey,” I said, flashing the widest smile I could muster. “I was just thinking this place might work for the photo shoot.”

She arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow. “Photo shoot?”

I nodded. “We’re doing a piece on Interesting Architecture of the Garden State, and I think this place fits the bill, don’t you?”

“How did you get in here?”

Realizing my entrance might have been caught on camera, I went with the truth. I shrugged, and using my best sheepish voice, confessed, “I hopped the fence.”

“An interesting skill.” The woman studied me like I was a bug.

“I like to work out,” I lied.

“So, you deliberately trespassed,” she murmured.

“I did. I’m sorry. My curiosity got the better of me.”

“Curiosity killed the cat,” she practically purred.

“Yeah, well, the worst it’ll get me is a fine,” I told her, pretending to not have understood the implied threat. “Better that than going to my editor without any ideas of places to use.”

“You’re better than I would have expected, Margaret May Lee.” Her lip curled into a snarl. “But not good enough.”

Two things happened when she used my name. First, I realized that she knew who I was. Then, when she pulled out a gun and pointed it at me, I realized I was in for the fight of my life.

I swallowed hard, holding the other woman’s gaze. Her eyes were filled with malevolent calculation as she decided how she wanted to get rid of me.

“Great plan,” God whispered.

“Where are they?” I blustered.

“You think they’re in there, don’t you?” She casually waved at the villa with the gun.

“That’s what I was hoping to find out,” I admitted.

“You know, none of this had to happen,” she complained. “They could have just gone along when the landlord tried to cancel their lease, and we could have just bought up the empty buildings. But no, they had to go and read their actual contract, and realized they had the first right to buy the buildings. And then, the lottery winner had to go around offering to loan shopkeepers the money to buy their buildings. Just complicated my plans for no reason.”

Deciding that it was only a matter of time until the cops showed up, assuming that Jack had called them, I tried to keep her talking. “You arranged the protest? Trying to destroy their business so they’d leave?”

“It wasn’t that hard,” Karla Nestor confided. “That Donna idiot really had it out for them. All I did was stoke the flames of hatred.”

“But it didn’t work.”

“No,” she sighed with exasperation. “They have loyal local clientele and a well-oiled social media presence.”

“But why kill her?”

“Who?”

“Donna.”

She cocked her head to the side. “You think I killed Donna?”

“Or had her killed,” I amended.

She shook her head. “Maybe you’re not as smart as I thought you were if you think I offed my own asset.”

I couldn’t tell if she was playing some sort of game and lying to me or if she really hadn’t had anything to do with Donna’s death.

“Out of questions to stall for time with?” Karla said with a sly smile, making it clear she’d known what I was doing.

“One more,” I said. “Are you going to let my friend and aunt go?”

“That’s not up to me,” she revealed, glancing toward the house. “The arrangement was they had to be alive until my deal was done. After that, it’s up to the team who took them.”

The distant whine of approaching sirens reached our ears.

“Too late,” she announced, raising the gun and pointing it at my chest.

Right at where God was hidden.

I might have just stood there and let her shoot me, but I had to save him.

31

Eyes. Nose. Throat. Groin.

I lunged at Karla, trying to hit all her most vulnerable spots. I missed, but the collision was enough to throw her off balance.

“Run, God!” I begged as I wrestled her for the gun. “Save yourself!”

We tumbled to the ground, kicking, punching, and scratching at each other. I knocked the gun from her grip, but she delivered a hard kick to my chest, knocking me backward. As I struggled to breathe, she grabbed the gun and leveled it at my chest.

“Freeze! Police!” a voice boomed.

I rocked back, amazed that my stupid plan had worked. The cops would save the day.

Or not.

Karla held her position, keeping the gun aimed at my chest, determined to end me.

“Kill! Kill!”

She glanced down at the snarling, snapping Doberman pinscher doing her best impression of birds of prey and threatening her with death. Anyone would have.

I used the distraction to roll to the right as Piss flew through the air and sunk her claws into Karla’s wrist.

The gun fell to the ground and the officer kicked it away before he murmured, “Dumb plan, Mags.” His voice was barely audible as a chorus of police sirens drew near.

I blinked and stared up at the redhead. I was shocked that Patrick Mulligan was the cop who’d shown up and saved me.

While he handcuffed Karla Nestor and read her her rights, DeeDee licked my face. “Okay Maggie you are?”

“She’d be better if you weren’t drowning her,” God decided.

Looking over in the direction of his voice, I saw that the lizard was perched atop Piss. I searched for Nat, but he was nowhere in sight. The cat and dog couldn’t have gotten there without him, so I knew he had to be nearby.

Four uniformed cops were running toward us, guns drawn.

Using the Doberman to leverage myself up, I got to my feet. “Where are they?” I asked Karla Nestor. “Where are my aunt and friend?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she mocked.

“It’ll go easier if you tell us where they are,” Patrick told her.

I held my breath, waiting.

“We’ll meet again,” she promised with an evil laugh.

“We’ll find them,” Patrick promised. “Just waiting on a warrant to search the house.”

I stared at the building, mentally replaying my conversation with Karla. “I don’t think they’re there.”

“There’s a clever girl,” Karla approved.

I clenched my hands into fists, preparing to wipe the smirk off her face.

While the redhead handed her off to a pair of the uniformed cops, and I was left alone with my pets, I asked, “Where’s Nat?”

“He went to the other house,” Piss replied.

“What other house?”

“He figured you were safe with Jack, so he followed the other car.”

That explained why I’d never seen him tailing the reporter’s car. “What other car?”

“The one driven by the man the crazy killer woman had been meeting with,” Piss explained. “Nat’s checking it out, but DeeDee smelled you, so we veered off to come to your rescue.”

“Good girl,” I told DeeDee, patting the top of her head.

“I’m impressed,” God admitted. “I didn’t think you were much of a scent hound.”

“Is Nat me training,” DeeDee panted proudly.

“What?” God asked.

“Nat’s been scent-training her,” Piss explained. “He and the girls all go and hide in the woods and DeeDee has to find them all.”

“I didn’t know about that,” I murmured with surprise.

“Apparently, you can teach an old dog some new tricks,” God said with admiration.

“Can I get a statement, Detective Mulligan?” Jack Stern called, walking toward the patrol car that Patrick stood beside.

“Give me a break and back off for five minutes,” Patrick replied testily, waving him off.

Jack pivoted and sauntered toward me. “I’m guessing from the dour expressions that they haven’t found Armani…or Loretta?”

“Not yet,” I confirmed.

“You called Patrick?” I asked.

He shrugged. “It was a really stupid plan, Maggie. I had to do something. I called him fifteen minutes before I dialed 9-1-1, to give him a head start.”

“Thanks,” I murmured.

“It wasn’t entirely selfless,” Jack confessed. “Mulligan promised me an exclusive.” He looked up at the villa.

“They’re getting a search warrant,” I told him. “I don’t think they’re in there.”

Jack frowned and then hung his head, letting out a shuddering sigh. “What I wouldn’t give to see Armani enjoying one of her disgusting food combinations,” he said weakly.

I nodded. “Or to be a test subject for one of The Corset’s questionable products, like Love Goo.”

“Armani got some of that on her shirt, once,” Jack confided with a chuckle, “and the smell just wouldn’t come out of the fabric. She ended up throwing the shirt away in order to get rid of the stench.”

“It is vile stuff,” I agreed.

Patrick strode over to us. “I’m going to execute the warrant now. It’s best if you wait here.”

“Yeah,” Jack agreed.

We watched the redhead stride toward the building, issuing orders to the uniformed officers.

“Moment of truth,” Jack said worriedly.

We stood shoulder-to-shoulder, united in our concern for those we cared about.

“They’re not there,” I reiterated confidently. “I believe they’re alive, but I have no idea where they could be.”

“Goo near is love!” DeeDee, who’d wandered out by the road, barked.

“If only Nat could improve her grammar,” God groused.

“DeeDee, get away from the road,” I called.

She stayed where she was.

“Come!” I called, worried the foolish mutt would get herself hit by a car.

Instead of obeying, she trotted away. “Goo near is love!”

“I am too tired to chase you,” I muttered.

“Sugar!” Piss meowed sharply. “She’s telling you that there’s Love Goo near here.”

The back of my neck prickled with goose bumps. Was Loretta really so close that DeeDee could smell her? I sprinted toward the road. “DeeDee, wait up!”

Piss raced ahead of me.

“Whoa! Whoa!” God shouted. He’d been napping atop the cat. When she took off, he went flying.

“Sensitive skin,” he moaned as I paused to scoop him up.

“Maggie?” Jack called after me.

“I’ll be right back!” I shouted over my shoulder, speeding up to try to catch the dog.

“Way this!” DeeDee barked.

I was breathing hard and everything in my body ached in protest with every step I took, but I kept running.

We passed Nat’s truck. A quick glance revealed he wasn’t inside. I kept running.

A few houses past the truck, DeeDee made a sharp turn into the driveway. This one wasn’t gated, but the trees were papered with No Trespassing signs. Still, I kept running.

It was a good thing that I did. If I’d slowed to catch my breath or paused to try to press away the painful stitch in my side, I would have been too late.

As it was, when the guy emptying a gas can down an underground hatch saw the grinning Doberman charging at him, he dropped the container.

“Stop!” I shouted breathlessly. “Stop!”

Thinking the command was meant for her, DeeDee skidded to a halt.

The man fumbled in his pocket, pulling out a cigarette lighter.

“Maggie?” Aunt Loretta called from inside the hole. “Is that you?”

“It’s me,” I yelled back, then gasped in horror as the man held the lighter over the opening, the flame flickering to life.

“Please,” I begged. “Don’t.”

DeeDee and Piss were both too far away to stop him.

“Help us, Chica!” Armani pleaded from underground. “We’re right here.”

I held out my hands in supplication and tried to reason with the guy with the lighter. “Take it easy. We can work this out.”

“Use the slingshot,” God whispered.

“That won’t stop him,” Piss argued.

“You just need a moment of distraction,” God said confidently.

“I’m not good at throwing the thing,” I told them through gritted teeth, even as I pulled it from my pocket.

The guy watched me incredulously. “Is that a slingshot?”

I nodded as I told the animals, “I can only shoot. And I don’t have anything to shoot.”

“Use me,” the lizard volunteered without hesitation.

You just know it's going to be a bad day when you're loading a lizard into a slingshot.

"What about his sensitive skin?" Piss murmured worriedly.

"It's the only way," God told her. "I'll be fine."

Our feline friend looked at me with her good eye and I could see doubt shining in it. I shrugged. I was in agreement with the lizard that this was our one shot. Literally.

“Thank you," I whispered to him.

“Let it never be said that I’m not heroic,” he declared. “In fact, I⁠—"

Without warning, I let him fly.

32

I went for a run to burn off some of my anxiety. Yes, I, Maggie Lee, willingly exercised. Not because it was part of a job or because I was running for my life, but because I needed the stress relief.

DeeDee loped ahead of me on a long, loose leash as we circled the park.

It felt good to be in control and proactive, with the sun shining on my face. Then, the dumb dog suddenly veered to the left, knocking me off balance. I tried to correct her with the leash, and she pulled it right out of my hands, racing toward her destination.

“Come back!” I wheezed, half-heartedly chasing after her until I realized she was being fed by a redhead.

I slowed to a walk and concentrated on getting my breathing under control before I got close to Patrick Mulligan.

“Looking good out there, Mags.” Then, he silently offered me a To Go mug of coffee and half of a Taylor ham, egg and cheese on a roll.

I gladly took them both.

He ate the other half of the sandwich and sipped his own coffee we while sat on a picnic table under a tree. “Everything back to normal?”

“Pretty much.”

Thankfully, Armani and Loretta hadn’t been held prisoner in the underground bunker for their entire kidnapping, just the last couple of minutes before I’d arrived. Since they’d had each other for company, they seemed to have weathered the entire ordeal relatively well.

“I saw that Jack Stern gave you a good write-up about bringing down the Nestor Corporation.”

He nodded. “Didn’t hurt that he had the exclusive.”

“How did you get there in time to stop Karla Nestor from killing me?” I asked curiously. “I know Jack called you before 9-1-1 but…”

“I was already on the way there,” Patrick admitted.

“Why?”

“Because I did old-fashioned police work,” he said with a proud smile. “The whole silent alarm thing. I traced who placed the call from the bogus alarm company, claiming the one in The Corset had been tripped, and worked backward from there.”

“Impressive,” I said with an approving nod.

“I didn’t become a detective because I’m a bad cop.”

“Of course not.”

“I just happen to be good at other stuff, too.” He winked at me and flashed a devilish grin.

I chuckled.

“Speaking of which, the boss told me to let you know he’d like to see you.”

I nodded my understanding. Once Susan, Loretta and Armani had gotten back home, we’d declared a “school vacation week” so that the family could just hibernate together, eating yummy foods, playing games, and generally enjoying each other. As a result, no Delveccio had been by for an entire week.

“I’ve got to get back to my day job,” Patrick announced, tossing the remainder of his sandwich to DeeDee, who gobbled it up like she hadn’t been fed for months. “Stay out of trouble, Mags.”

I went home, showered and then headed to the mobster’s place.

“What do you think he wants?” God asked, sprawled out on the dashboard of the car. Ever since he’d been launched into the eye of the goon with the lighter, he’d been basking in his heroic deed. Since it was a warm day, he was also basking in the sun.

“It can’t be urgent since he sent the message through Patrick,” I reasoned.

Still, I’d been summoned by the head of a powerful crime syndicate, so I was a little apprehensive as I climbed the stairs of his abode.

The front door opened before I’d even rung the bell.

“Hi, Maggie.” Dominic grinned up at me.

“Hello yourself, handsome.” I bent and gave the boy a quick hug. “Ready for school tomorrow?”

He nodded excitedly.

His grandfather walked up behind him and rested his hands on the kid’s shoulders. “Why don’t you go make cards for Miss Lassalan and Miss Leslie like we talked about?”

“Okay,” Dominic agreed easily. “Bye, Maggie.” He skipped away.

“Let’s look at the statues,” Delveccio suggested, stepping outside.

We began to make a slow loop around the driveway.

“Thank you for taking such good care of Katie and Alicia. All they talk about is everything they did here,” I revealed.

“Susan must love that,” he joked.

“She’s grateful,” I replied. “We all are.”

He cleared his throat like the gratitude made him uncomfortable. “You good?”

“Great,” I murmured.

“Susan and Loretta?”

“They’re fine.”

“That crazy friend of yours?”

“Armani is back to her unique self,” I confirmed.

“That’s good. You did good.” He paused in front of a chubby cherub statue, studying it. “Does Griswald know what you told me? The Redding thing?”

I shook my head.

“You did me a solid, looking out for me like that. I won’t forget it.”

“No problem.”

“I got invited to the grand re-opening of The Corset in a couple of weeks,” he revealed. “You think I should go?”

I shrugged.

He patted his ample belly. “Think they have anything in my size?”

My cell phone buzzed, but I didn’t look at it.

“Go ahead,” the mobster said. “Get out of here.”

Nodding, I hurried back to my car. Once there, I looked at the text. Aunt Susan was requesting that I bring home two dozen eggs.

“She’s feeling better,” I muttered to myself. “Back to bossing everyone around.”

I picked up the eggs and headed home. When I got there, Katie, Alicia, and Templeton were playing tag with DeeDee, and Matilda, under the watchful eye of my grandfather, his eldest daughter, Marlene and Armani.

Leslie and Loretta were playing checkers on the front porch.

Billy and Irma were literally butting heads in the paddock as Rowdy and Twitch cheered them on.

I held the eggs up, so that Susan could see them from where she sat watching the kids, and then brought them into the kitchen.

A lone figure sat at the table, stroking the purring cat.

“Hey, Lee,” Nat said softly.

“Hey.” I put the eggs in the refrigerator and then took a seat opposite him. “Is everything okay?”

He nodded. “Just waiting for Griswald to come, tell me the details of a job he wants me to do with him.”

I nodded and clasped my hands in front of me. “I don’t think I ever thanked you.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but I bulldozed on. “If you hadn’t gotten to Armani and Loretta when you did…”

He shook his head. “I got my butt kicked. All three of us got thrown in that hole.”

From what I’d been able to piece together, Nat had shown up when three of Karla Nestor’s hired henchmen had been transporting my aunt and friend from the house, where they’d been held, to the hole, where they were meant to die.

Although outnumbered, and eventually losing the battle, Nat’s fight to save them had hampered their trip to the bunker.

“I wouldn’t have gotten there in time to stop the lighter if you hadn’t slowed them down,” I told Nat, my voice cracking with emotion. “Thank you.”

He smiled gently. “That’s what partners are for.”

“I’m glad you’ve fixed things with him,” God approved from my bra.

The End

Don’t miss Maggie’s next misadventure. Here’s a sneak peek of how The Hitwoman and the Jailbreak begins.

You just know it’s going to be a bad day when you’re facing down an apex predator.

My name Magie Lee and I was in deep trouble.

Thankfully, an unexpected rescuer was there to save me.

A note from JB:

I hope you enjoyed The Hitwoman's Evil Ex. Even as the writer, I'm sometimes surprised by who the heroes of my stories end up being, lol.

I'd appreciate it if you could take just a moment to leave a quick review.

Hugs and murder,

JB

THE HITWOMAN AND THE JAILBREAK

CONFESSIONS OF A SLIGHTLY NEUROTIC HITWOMAN 48

When a massive power outage strikes during a family outing, Maggie Lee must protect her beloved nieces from a menagerie of zoo animals running rampant.

You’d think that would be a bad enough day, but once she finally gets home, Maggie discovers that another collection of more deadly predators has gotten loose.

A jailbreak has occurred and three criminals remain at large. And each of them has a personal vendetta against Maggie or someone she loves.

Can she and her allies (both human and animal) hunt down these threats before they can execute their dark desires?

Order The Hitwoman and The Jailbreak

OH SHOOT!

A KIKI LONG MYSTERY FREE PREQUEL

Ever since her husband disappeared seven months ago and it came out that he’d been embezzling funds from the town, pet photographer Kiki Long has been keeping a low profile.

But now it’s time to focus on creating a new life for herself.

Risking the wrath of the town’s residents, Kiki attends the annual Pride Falls Fair where she’s regarded with a mix of animosity, curiosity, and pity.

When a participant in the pie eating contest drops dead due to poisoning, Kiki realizes that the pictures she captured at the fair could hold the key to figuring out the mystery of his death. But it’s not like she can go to Sheriff Rockland with them. He still considers her to be a suspect in her husband’s disappearance.

With the help of her cat, Kodak, Kiki sets out to prove that her friend, who baked the deadly pie, did not poison it. Can she catch the killer? Or will this new development be what lands her in prison?

Get Oh, Shoot! for Free

PSYCHIC CONSIGNMENT MYSTERY SERIES

Sun, sea, and murder…

Escape to the beach town of Sarasota, Florida, visit an inherited consignment shop and meet the Concordia sisters in this cozy mystery series with a twist.

Bea, Winnie and Amanda use their powers to run a store brimming with unusual merchandise and even quirkier clientele while solving mysteries and falling in love.

Check out the Psychic Consignment Mystery Series

Now available on Audio

One Woman’s Junk

Gently Used, Still Works

Another Woman’s Treasure

Something Old, Something New

CURSED CHICKS CLUB

What do you get when you combine a witch who doesn’t know her own power, a possessed cat and a dragon, all traveling in an RV caravan trying to break a curse?

Chaos and Adventure! Love and Laughter!

Follow Ravena and her friends as they try to right the world of wrongs, one magical moment at a time.

Visit the Cursed Chicks Club!

ALSO BY JB LYNN

HITWOMAN BOOKS IN ORDER

Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman

Further Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman

The Hitwoman Gets Lucky

The Hitwoman and the Family Jewels

The Hitwoman and the Neurotic Witness

The Hitwoman Hunts a Ghost

The Hitwoman and the 7 Cops

The Hitwoman and the Poisoned Apple

The Hitwoman’s Downward Dog

The Hitwoman’s Act of Contrition

The Hitwoman Hires a Manny

The Hitwoman and the Sacrificial Lamb

The Hitwoman and the Chubby Cherub

The Hitwoman and the Mother Load

The Hitwoman Under Pressure

The Hitwoman Plays Chaperone

The Hitwoman Takes a Road Trip

The Hitwoman in a Pickle

The Hitwoman and the Gold Digger

The Hitwoman's Juggling Act

The Hitwoman and the Fallen Angel

The Hitwoman Goes to Prison

The Hitwoman and the Exorcism

The Hitwoman Plays Games

The Hitwoman Owes a Favor

The Hitwoman and the Teddy Bear

The Hitwoman and the Body

The Hitwoman Pays a Debt

The Hitwoman Plays Courier

The Hitwoman’s Girls’ Night Out

The Hitwoman's Getaway

The Hitwoman vs The Security Guard

The Hitwoman Investigates

The Hitwoman Gets Her Man

The Hitwoman and the Ninjas

The Hitwoman's Charity Case

The Hitwoman's Egg Hunt

The Hitwoman's Dying Wish

The Hitwoman and the Sitting Duck

The Hitwoman and the Flash Mob

The Hitwoman Gets Caught

The Hitwoman VS the Training Schedule

The Hitwoman VS the Embezzler

The Hitwoman Spirals

The Hitwoman’s Reunion

The Hitwoman’s Knight Fight

The Hitwoman's Evil Ex

The Hitwoman and The Jailbreak

A Kiki Long Mystery

Oh, Shoot!

Shoot First, Ask Questions Later

Shoot The Moon

The Cat, The Witch, and the Dead Dude

Thankful, Grateful, Busted

And don't miss the Psychic Consignment Mystery series

One Woman’s Junk

Gently Used, Still Works

Another Woman’s Treasure

Something Old, Something New

Cursed Chicks Club

Once Cursed, Twice Shy

2 Spells Too Many

3 Times A Charm

Mind Your Own Magical Beesness

4 Wonky Jinxes

ABOUT JB LYNN

Author of the never-ending Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman series, JB Lynn (you can call her Jen) is a Jersey girl, who was transplanted in Florida for a while and is now putting down roots in North Carolina. When not taking photos and exploring the mountains with her rescue mutt, she writes the Psychic Consignment Mysteries and the Cursed Chick Club series because she’s got a soft spot for hijinks, humor, and heart (not to mention an almost compulsive need to tell stories!).

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For more info about my books, visit:

http://www.jblynn.com

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